Drowning Makes Me Feel Alive
by Aviici
Summary: It's been a constant battle for Blaise to balance out both his career and caring for his boyfriend who's been mentally scarred from the war. But the day Blaise stops the lift for Harry Potter, he knew his life would never be the same again. Maybe, Harry is just the thing to balance everything out. BZ/DM, eventual BZ/DM/HP.
1. the hardest thing is the right thing

**Warnings:** unstable!Draco. psychological torture. arithmomania. mind rape. PTSD. occasional mental regression. self-harm. AU. non-canon compliant. post-war. anxiety. triggers. episodes. falling in love. idiots in love. human experiments. insecure!Draco. stressed!Blaise. protective!Blaise. jealousy. Pansy is a good bro. happy ending. threesome. EWE. OCD. Obsessive Counting Disorder. Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. past child abuse. angst. fluff.

**Author's Note:** As you can tell from the warnings, this is going to be an entirely different approach to this triad than Red Strings. This was basically a challenge to myself to write in present tense, something I have never done before. It started out like that and went to adding my favorite threesome pairing, plot, and countless, obsessive, sleepless nights. Now, 40 chapters later, here we are lol after this first chapter, I will be updating on **Monday.** Tell me what you think, please!

**1**

_sometimes, the hardest thing is the right thing._

* * *

"Another long night?" Blaise lifts his head from where it rest on the kitchen table of his flat, and looks up at the sympathetic voice to find Pansy hovering above him, a concerned look on her features.

"Very long," He grunts as he sits up, his hands rising to rub his face tiredly. "He just wouldn't sleep at all last night..." He sighs, his fingers runs random circles on the table surface. "He finally fell asleep at five and I came downstairs to get some tea."

Pansy makes a noise of understanding before she lifts up her arms to reveal a basket, "I made breakfast."

Blaise smiles at that, she always made breakfast for them. "You brought the jam this time?"

Pansy scoffs in disgust but there was clearly a look of affection in her eyes, "Of course, my best friend deserves quality jam."

He laughs, stretching out his tired limbs and glances at the clock that hung across the kitchen, "I actually have to go...if I'm late again…"

"Actually, it's why I came early." She says, "I think this arrangement isn't working as we hoped it would and—"

"No, no, _no,_" He shakes his head, "You can't do this to me, Pans. We are not having this conversation."

_Not now, not ever._ He thinks furiously.

"I...I don't think I am mentally…" she goes on, her hands playing nervously with the handle of the basket.

"Stop it, Pansy." He snaps at her, firmly. "Just stop, don't you see…" He takes a few gulps of air at the rising panic that fills up inside him like molten lava. "I need you."

"Oh, boo bear…" She makes a noise of distress, not wanting to see her best friend like this. It broke her heart.

"Don't call me that," He grunts, disgruntled, and Pansy giggles, "But, seriously, I don't know what I would do if you weren't here, Pans, so don't say that you can't."

"I'm sorry," she whispers and it felt like ice shooting into his veins. "It's just hard...so, so hard to see him like this and not know how to make it better."

"I know," Blaise says, "I know."

"You need professional help, Blaise, he—he won't…"

"No, he's fine...I can do better, I can."

"Blaise, you can't keep doing this." Pansy states, sighing as she places the basket on the table and sits across from her friend, he feels something twist in his gut.

Blaise raises an eyebrow in surprise, "Doing what, exactly?"

"Trying to be the hero," Pansy says, he looks away from her pointed look. "You're not invincible, Blaise, and taking care of-"

"I have to go," He cuts in swiftly, his voice rough; he stands up quickly as he tries to catch his bearings. "It's just...I...he...bye." He pulls the robes that covered his seat and pulls it over him, his stance stiff.

"Don't you love him?" Pansy attempts again as he readies himself to apparate. His back stiffens even more at her words. "He needs you, boo bear, and having…"

"Don't you think I know that?" He hisses his dark eyes angry. He sighs and his shoulders sag as if in defeat. "I know, and I do love him...more than my own life…"

Pansy watches sadly as he apparate without another word and once again leaves his boyfriend in her care. "Bye, boo."

* * *

"You're late…" Blaise winces at the cold tone of his boss as he quickly walks past her and into the patient's room. He knew it was the quickest way of getting out of a punishment; Natasha would never call him out in front of a patient.

"Hello, Mrs Schmidt, I am Healer Zabini, it says here you are twenty three?" Blaise looks up at the woman who had pretty brown hair and brown eyes.

She giggles, "Yes, I am and you are very pretty, Healer Zabini." She flutters her eyes and he gives her a polite smile.

"Thank you, Mrs Schmidt; you are very kind," he say, graciously, unaffected by the obvious flirting. He had more than one patient before flirt with him, "Now, it seems from the results that you overdosed on Inhibition Potion, correct?" Blaise asks, his tone nonjudgmental and professional.

The woman in front of him groans and tries to roll over, "Well, yes...but it's only because Peter wanted…"

"It's quite alright, Mrs Schmidt," He says kindly saving her from what he expected to be a very embarrassing retelling. "I understand the situation completely, we will administer the antidote and after a few paperwork and twenty-four hour watch, you will be going home."

The woman smiles at him and nods, "Good...that's good."

"Yes, it is, ma'am." he smiles at her once again and after checking everything was stable left the room. He stops once he sees that Natasha was waiting for him.

"Blaise…" He sighs at her tone because he knew that tone, that tone meant nothing good will come out of this conversation. "This is the tenth time you've left a patient waiting."

"I know, I know," He does know, he was reminded of it every day by her. "It's just Draco had a bad night and I…"

"I see," Natasha gives him a pitying look and that's what he hates. He didn't need pity, he didn't have time for it, and not when he was so damn busy. "I understand the situation you're in may be hard at times but that doesn't mean you are in any…

"I know…" He didn't need to hear that he didn't have any leeway. "I know, just please can we drop it for now?"

He almost flinches when she places a hand on his shoulder, "Fine, we'll drop it. You have two patients to see before you have surgery on fifth floor, apparently some idiot accidentally transfigured his insides into squid tentacles...and it isn't pretty…."

He makes a face in understanding before he fixes his robes and let out a slow breath, "Right. I'm on it."

* * *

Pansy was at a lost.

She was sure she had brought the right jam this time but all Draco could do was stare at the red concoction that littered his toast with a blank stare. "Draco?"

He mumbles something rapidly under his breath that she doesn't quite hear and she is concerned that she triggered an episode.

"Draco? Baby? You don't have to eat it if you don't want it, I...I can get something else…" she leans forward in concern when Draco continues to just mumble under his breath.

"Boo bear…" He whispers so softly she almost misses it.

"Huh?"

"I want boo bear…" He says it louder this time, looking up at her with wide, frightened eyes and she has to look away because that wasn't her best friend. Not the snarky, lovable git that she knew. That was a child.

A traumatic, lost child.

"Boo bear...want boo bear…" He snaps out at her, his fingers picking at his left forearm and with a jolt she's realizes what he was doing.

Punishment.

"No, Draco, don't do that." She jumps from her seat in panic and it must've been too abrupt for Draco's fragile mind because he jumps and falls on his butt, the bright red spot where he's aggravated the skin of his forearms was heartbreaking.

"Boo bear...boo bear...I want boo bear!" He is hyperventilating now and Pansy panics, she jumps into action and she knows she isn't supposed to. That she is supposed to wait for Draco to initiate contact but her heart is breaking at each sob the blond lets out.

She goes around the table and wraps her arms around the man and he struggles for a minute before he relaxes. They sink to the floor and Pansy has to will the tears away as she realize how small and thin her best friend really is.

His rapid breathing and shaking is his only indication that he hated the touch as Pansy rocks him back and forth on the tiled floor. She ignores his struggle to get away; she needs this more than he did.

"No...no..." He whimpers, struggling against her tight grip. "No, Father! I'll be good!" She shuts her eyes tightly, she knows she could do nothing once Draco was in an episode.

"Draco, it's okay." She says, her voice trembling. "Your father isn't here."

"Boo bear..."

"He will be back soon," Pansy soothes, her hands shakes as she runs it through his hair. "Boo bear is coming."

"How long?" he looks up at her wide eyes. He scratches at the place she holds him but it only makes her arms tighten around him.

"Five hours," Pansy says, she looks up at the clock and sees with dread that it's only one o'clock. "He'll be here soon." She adds, quickly, not wanting Draco to get lost in numbers.

But it's too late, Draco is already counting and, shit, that is never a good sign.

"O-one minute and three seconds...four...five..."

"I'm sorry, Draco," She whispers and she doesn't know why she is sorry but it feels like the right thing to say.

"I want boo bear…" Pansy plays with the idea of calling Blaise, she's done that twice before when Draco had these mini panic attacks and she didn't know what she did wrong. But she knows if Blaise leaves, he would most likely be out of a job.

"Three minutes and thirty seconds...thirty-one..."

"He's coming."

"I want boo bear…" It comes out as a whine this time and Pansy's heart clenches.

"I know, blondie, I do too."

She makes a mental note that red jam is as bad as grape jam.


	2. we're all battling fear

**2**

_we're all battling fear_

* * *

Blaise is exhausted once he comes out of surgery, the grime and blood sticks to him like a second skin. He would forever hate the day that Mungo's implemented Muggle means into their curriculum until the day he dies.

He quickly signs a couple of paperwork at the reception desk, though his mind is already at his home where his boyfriend is. He bids the receptionist a quick goodbye and dodges his head when he spots Natasha a little ways over.

He is halfway to the lift when he is stopped again.

"Not now, Granger." He hisses all he could think is _DracoDracoDraco._

She looks taken aback by his clipped tone and he bites his bottom lip to restrain himself from apologizing. "I just wanted to say it was wonderful working with you today. Of course, it would have been quicker to take away the remnants of the tentacles by magic once everything was transfigured back to normal but there is something magical in itself in seeing how you made that incision so beautifully and efficiently. I am truly—"

"I appreciate it, Granger, I really do but…" He pauses to check his watch that Pansy had forced him to buy. "It is getting late and my boyfriend is waiting for me, I am—"

"Ah, of course," She says, her voice bitter. "Your boyfriend…" She waves her hand in dismissal. "You wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

He shoots her a bemused look before he gives her a nod and heads to the lift once again. He almost sighs in relief as it opens swiftly and he steps in.

"Hold the lift, please!"

Blaise startles from the shout and immediately prevents the lift from closing. He makes a noise of surprise as the man walks in, panting heavily.

"Thank you so much." The man says his voice a deep tenor.

"Potter?" He asked, tentatively, because it could have been three or four years since he's seen Potter.

The man in front of him has wild, messy dark hair and startling, bright green eyes. He tries not to shift as the man stares at him, his eyes narrowed as if trying to figure out where he knew him from.

"Oh, you're Blaise Zabini, right?" Blaise doesn't blame him for not remembering him, he had made himself scarce in the confrontations that Draco and Potter had in their school days. "Malfoy's friend, right?"

"Boyfriend, now," He amends, "I didn't know you worked at Mungo's."

Potter shrugs, a small smile quirks up his lips. "Yeah, I'm the Head Mind Healer for the Department. You're a Healer, right?"

"General." He says.

Potter nods, "I would pin you as so." They settle in silence for a moment as the lift descends to the ground floor. "So, how is Malfoy?" There is curiosity in his tone and something else that Blaise couldn't quite place.

Blaise shrugs his shoulders, nonchalantly. Not many knew of Draco's mental decline after the war and Blaise wants to keep it that way. "Fine."

Potter gives him a sideways glance, the lift jostling under their feet. "Just fine?"

"Yes."

Potter turns fully to him and scrutinizes him, and that's what he hates about Mind Healers; it always felt like they were analyzing you.

"You're lying." He says, simply.

Blaise raises an eyebrow at his audacity, "Excuse me?" He takes a threatening step forward towards him, a warning.

Potter doesn't back down as he says, "Your hands twitched when you said he was fine," he crosses his arms and lifts his eyebrows in skepticism. "That merely shows you're anxious and a bad habit when you lie."

Blaise gives him an unimpressed look even if inside he was panicking. "Draco is fine...why do you care even if he wasn't?"

"Because...I help people," He shrugs, chuckling to himself as if he had just made the grandest joke. "I thought that was a bad thing but, apparently, it's my best asset."

Blaise snorts just as the lift opens to let him out, "Nice talking to you, Potter."

"Wait," He catches a bit of Blaise's robe as he steps out and he halts. "I would like to see Draco...it's been a while, yeah?"

Blaise gives him a skeptical look because from what he knew about their volatile relationship, it was not friendly.

Not one bit.

So with that in mind, he gives his robes a sharp tug and says, "No."

Potter reels back as if he's been struck. "No?"

"Do you not understand?" He asks, evenly, trying with all his might to leave as swiftly as possible. "I can find a dictionary…"

"I didn't mean it like that...it's just that...why not?" He looks at him with a frown and concern.

Blaise reminds himself that Potter wasn't genuinely concerned, he was actually curious and most likely wanted to exploit Draco for his own twisted gain, whatever they may be.

"You and Draco were never friends," He points out with a tired sigh, "Why are you interested in him all of a sudden, anyways?"

Potter shrugs and it only makes Blaise's desire to punch the man greater. He looks at him with bright, green eyes and something inside Blaise twists into tight knots.

Blaise isn't sure if it was his green eyes or the fact that he was just too tired to give a shit but five minutes later, he was instructing Potter on how to apparate to his flat safely.

* * *

Blaise regrets bringing Potter along as soon as he apparate into his living room.

Pansy looks distraught.

Draco is in a corner, muttering Merlin knows what.

Blaise lets out a sigh.

Pansy's head snaps up at the soft sigh and nearly cries with joy, "Draco's in an episode, I'm so sorry." She rushes forward, her neat bob now in disarray and her eyes red rimmed. "He's been asking for you since he's woken up and he had a panic attack...but it only got worse since I hugged him and he's been scratching his arm and…"

Blaise quiets her with a swift hug, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "You are amazing, Pans, thank you."

She swiftly shakes her head but buries herself deeper into his chest, "I'm a horrible best friend."

"You aren't," He says, firmly. "Draco is just having a bad day. What triggered it?"

"The red jam from Paris I brought." She sniffles and Blaise sighs.

"He used to like that particular jam."

"I'm sorry…"

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Pansy, you were wonderful." He pulls her in for another hug. He looks over at his boyfriend's hunched form, too far to hear what the blond was saying. "What is he muttering, anyways?"

She looks pained at the question, "How long it will take for you to get home."

Blaise frowns as he turns to his boyfriend whose mumbling is getting louder, "Five hours, forty minutes...fifty-five seconds...fifty-six…"

"At least, it isn't in seconds this time." Blaise rubs his tired eyes and pulls off his robes and lays it on the couch. He wished he had a chance to shower but his boyfriend needs him more.

A hand pulls him back when he takes a step forward and he looks behind him to see Potter—he nearly forgot that the man was there. "Let me do it."

Blaise gives him a startled look before he growls, "I barely trust Pansy with him when he's like this...so, what makes you think I would even let you near him?"

Potter ignores him and, instead, looks at the curled up ball that was Draco Malfoy. "I'm a Mind Healer, just trust me."

"Five hours, forty-one minutes...five seconds…"

Blaise doesn't trust anyone with Draco and Potter is no different.

"Please." Potter urges, giving him a pleading look.

"Five hours, forty-three minutes...thirty-eight seconds...thirty-nine…"

"I swear, Potter, even a wrong _twitch_ and I will kill you," he says, threateningly, because this was still his boyfriend, his sun. He refuses to let Potter destroy that.

Potter shrugs at the threat as he takes tentative steps towards the rocking form of his former enemy; he crouches to the floor once he is close enough. Blaise holds his breath and his mind races, his body ready to leap forward if Draco reacts badly to him.

"Draco? Hi, my name is Harry." Blaise is surprised at the soft voice and even more so when Draco looks up tentatively.

"Green." He whispers.

"What?"

"Green." He says it more firmly and reaches up to touch one of Potter's eyelids. Pansy makes a noise of surprise from behind Blaise.

"Yeah, my eyes are green," The saviour chuckles as he tries to look as small and non-threatening as possible. "Can you tell me what's wrong, please?"

Draco avoids eye contact at the question and continues his counting, "Five hours, forty-nine minutes and...thirty seconds...thirty-one...thirty-two…"

Blaise wants to intervene, then, because Draco is distraught when he is counting and he wants to soothe his worries.

Potter holds up a hand to stop him but his eyes never leave Draco, "Can you tell me what's wrong, Draco?"

"...want boo bear…" He mumbles after a moment, giving Potter a side glance but flinches once he sees the color of Potter's robe. "I don't like Healers...they always say…"

"Yes?" Potter prods as Draco pulls at his hair and Blaise restrains himself from telling him to stop. Potter swiftly takes his robes off and throws them aside, he was wearing a button up white shirt and beige slacks under them, Draco visibly relaxes after that.

"…they always want to fix me…" He says, looking up at Potter, "I'm...not broken."

Now, that...that breaks Blaise's heart.

"I don't want to fix you, Draco; I just want to be your friend." Potter says, gently. "Can we be friends?"

"Rejected."

Potter frowns at that, "Rejected?"

"You'll reject me...rejected...rejected...reject...one...two..." He starts counting the cracks in the tiles.

"For Merlin's sake, Potter," Blaise growls taking a step closer, "Step away, you've only made him worse."

"Don't move," Potter says, sharply. "Let me handle it."

Blaise huffs in displeasure as Potter scoots closer to Draco and pulls his hands from where they are tracing the cracks and into his lap. "Draco, listen to me," Potter urges, gently, he smiles when Draco looks up at him. "I won't reject you."

"No, no, you did—y-you did...P-Potter..."

"Yes, and I was foolish...a child. I am sorry..."

Draco is quiet then, his head bowing and fingers trembling as they trace the lines of Potter's knuckles, counting each ridge on the saviour's hand. Potter looks as if he didn't mind, sitting quietly and patiently as Draco counted each line on his fingers. The silence is stifling but no one dares to speak. For Blaise, it seems like hours until Draco speaks again.

"Odd…good...good...okay…" He mumbles, finally, and he scoots closer to Potter, allowing the man to wrap his arms around him in a tight embrace. Pansy lets out a gasp in surprise.

Blaise could only watch in astonishment because that is more contact than he initiates with Pansy. "How?" he manages to choke out as he steadies himself by leaning heavily against the couch, his knuckles turns white at the tight grip he has on the furniture.

Draco pushes back into Potter's embrace as he drifts off to sleep.

Potter looks up at him and gives him a wry grin, "I have a certificate and all."

Blaise collapses to the ground in exhaustion.


	3. and the caged bird sings

**3**

_And the caged bird sings_

* * *

Blaise wakes up the next morning to the comforting weight of his boyfriend sleeping soundly on his chest. He runs a hand through the silky strands of his blond hair and places a soft kiss on his parted lips. He is surprised to feel relaxed and rested, it was a surreal and foreign feeling—he could count on one hand the times he felt this way in the last four years. He can almost feel like everything is normal and at ease as he strokes Draco's blond hair.

He doesn't know if he should cry in relief or profusely thank Potter because last night had been the first night Draco had fallen asleep without nightmares and it was the longest sleep he had without hearing his boyfriends terror-filled screams during the night.

It was a welcomed change.

"Good morning, Blaise." Draco whispers into his chest as he shifts and Blaise grins up to the ceiling.

Draco called him _Blaise._

Today would be a good day.

* * *

"Can you tell me more about his condition?" Harry asks, gently, as they watch Draco talk to Pansy in the living room from their spot at the kitchen. Pansy was relieved to see her best friend mostly back to normal. Well, as normal as a broken man can be.

He would much rather be over there with them, cherishing the small normalcy in his, otherwise, chaotic life.

"I...look, we have seen countless Mind Healers and they don't work for us," He clenches the fabric of his jeans. "Draco hates them and I,as well."

Potter frowns, "That doesn't answer my question, Blaise."

Blaise runs a hand through his curly hair, the sudden urge to just kick Potter out heavy on his mind. "Fine, you want to know? It began after the war. It started out with small panic attacks when something was out of order to counting everything thing in his vicin…"

"Arithmomania." Potter interjects.

"What?"

"Having the compulsive urge to count anything and everything is Arithmomania. It is common with OCD cases." He writes these down as he explains them.

"Right," He shakes his head, he couldn't be bothered to figure out what Potter was up to."After some time, random things caused him to trigger into an episode and he constantly has nightmares. He used to have silencing wards around his bed until I figured it out."

Harry nods, his face thoughtful. "Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, going by how he was yesterday."

"Yesterday was a tiny episode," He tries not to shudder at the thought of a full blown attack. "Yesterday only happens when I leave before he wakes up."

"Interesting," Harry tilts his head to the side and the movement gives Blaise a headache. "You said these symptoms came right after the war?"

"Yeah, Draco didn't attend Hogwarts that year," He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, this was more information he had ever given anyone on Draco's condition. "Theo and I found him near the Forbidden Forest after you ended the war."

"Did you find anything peculiar with him?"

"He hated being touched, then," Blaise recalls, he runs his hand across the stubble on his chin. "He was quiet, frighteningly so...and jumpy, as well. He used to flinch a lot and scratch at his left arm all the time." He didn't mention that he still did that at times.

Harry nods; he knew exactly what was on Draco's left arm. "How long until he began to relax?"

"About a year after the war but he was only comfortable with Pansy and I. He allowed me to touch him but refused anyone else's touch." Blaise says, shifting in his seat.

"You never learned what happened in that year gap he was absent?"

"Draco refuses to tell anyone."

"I see."

Blaise frowns at him as Potter writes more notes down and he feels as if he is betraying Draco's trust by relaying so much to Potter. "Look, we don't _need _a Mind Healer, Draco is just fine with me alone and—"

"Don't you want him to get better?" Potter looks at him with a disapproving frown, his green eyes looking at him intensely. "Sorry, it just seems odd that—"

"Of course I do," Blaise snaps at him, "More than anything...but I know that bringing him to weekly counseling with idiots trying to enter his mind, whether he wants them there or not, isn't going to help either."

"I'm not like most Mind Healers, Zabini," he fiddles with his quill in thought, "I have a more muggle approach to this, I've worked with people who have suffered PTSD and they are leading happier lives because of my treatment."

"Look, Potter, I know you think it's in your right to save every person in your vicinity but it is neither wanted nor needed here." He sneers at him but Potter doesn't back down.

"I am not forcing you; I am giving you a choice." Potter replies, his voice calm. "You can either take it or leave it."

"We are fine." He repeats, resolutely.

"Are you really?" Potter asks him, harshly. "You looked dead on your feet yesterday and you're protective, Blaise, you won't let anyone near Draco. How can you expect him to get better?"

"Because Draco...he's been through a lot, alright?—most of which I don't even know of because he can't even stand to think of what he's been through...let alone tell me," He was sure the frustration and pain he felt was bleeding through his voice by now. "His episodes are so bad that sometimes...he won't even let me touch him and those are the worst days...he—no one else could handle him...it _has _to be me."

"You can't carry this weight forever."

"I can try."

"I will help," Potter offers, immediately, "I swear I will do everything in my power to help him get better, even if you don't want a Mind Healer for him just...just let me help."

"Sometimes, after a nightmare he can't handle being held," Blaise goes on as if Potter hadn't said a word. "He says it feels like his skin is crawling and he hurts himself by picking at his skin or dark mark when he gets too agitated even though he doesn't mean it...he prefers things in three's and seven's, he hates anything that is even numbered or messy...and that's only tip of the iceberg..." Blaise looks up at him with thin lips. "Do you really think you would be able to handle all of that?"

"I can." Potter says, his tone determined. "I am not perfect but I will not leave here without trying first." Blaise has to applaud the man for his stubbornness, at the very least.

But he is still reluctant despite Potter's tenacity, "I'm protective of him, Potter, I swear to god if this is some sort of ploy…"

"It's not...I'm not like that." He sounds irritated and Blaise is pleased. "I...I owe Draco's family, they saved my life right before the war ended and I just want to repay that debt."

"It's not going to be easy."

"I don't expect it to be," Potter smirks, "It's Malfoy."

It's all the explanation Blaise needed.

"Why?"

Potter shrugs, "I can help Draco, " He pauses for a second before he adds, "And you say he hates Mind Healers but he allowed me contact last night."

"He threw a biscuit at your head this morning as soon as he saw you and stormed off."

Potter laughs, "Yes, that may be true but he reacted without going into a full out panic attack. I think my presence makes Draco feel like himself again."

Blaise feels jealousy spike through him because he's been Draco's friend since eleven and his lover since eighteen but he never received such familiarity from his boyfriend after an episode.

"This is good for him." Potter decides after a moment, he looks at Blaise, "Please, just let me help. I could never live with myself if I just walked away without helping."

"Yeah," He sighs in defeat, he only wants what's best for his boyfriend. "Okay."

* * *

"I'm sorry," Draco whispers into his chest later that day, Harry was in the kitchen making lunch, refusing to leave and Pansy left after breakfast to her own flat.

"What for, love?" Blaise asks, softly.

"Yesterday..." Draco makes a face and Blaise smiles because on good days like these he can almost pretend that his boyfriend's father hadn't shattered his mind into a million pieces and left Blaise to try and put them back together. "I hate when that happens."

"You asked Pans for strawberry jam, love." Blaise reminds him, softly. "That's what she brought."

"No more jam, then," Draco decides with a pout. Blaise resists the urge to kiss it away.

"You never acted that way before though," Blaise tries to keep his voice even and calm so as to not startle Draco. "Why the sudden hate for jam?"

Draco doesn't respond; too busy counting the thin stripes on Blaise's shirt, his mouth moves wordlessly as his fingers traces each stripe, his eyebrows creased in concentration. Blaise found it adorable.

"Can you tell me why it happened?" He attempts again, he only knew bits and pieces of what Lucius Malfoy had done to Draco when the blond hadn't returned to Hogwarts for his seventh year. And Draco was not at all agreeable to relay the events.

Draco refuses to speak of it because he pretends it never happened. Aside from his episodes, the blond tried with all his might to make it seem like nothing was wrong with him—as if he didn't have a compulsive need to correct things or count random objects or other little quirks that made Draco both damaged and unique.

"Why is Potter here?" Draco asks in disgust, ignoring Blaise's question. "Is he trying to steal you from me?"

"Draco," Blaise says, firmly, this time he wouldn't drop it. "Why?"

Draco buries his head deeper into his chest, clutching at his shirt tightly and shakes his head. "Sorry."

Blaise nods his head and, finally, lets it go because he knew what that meant, he wouldn't be finding out anything anytime soon. It was frustrating but he wouldn't push it, he could still remember the last time he had tried to pry information from Draco that he wasn't ready to divulge. It only ended in an extreme panic attack and sedatives.

"Even."

"What?" He snaps out of his thoughts, abruptly, and looks down at Draco who finished counting and is now tracing three circles on his jeans. "Draco, what's wrong?" He asks in worry, Draco only counted in three's when he needed to calm down.

"The stripes on your shirt are even." Draco explains with a trembling voice and Blaise realizes with a jolt that the blond is actually willing himself to stay close to him even if all he wanted to do was run far away from the even numbered thing.

"Sorry," He says, softly, disentangling himself from the blond and stands up from the couch. "I'll go change."


	4. to err is human - to forgive, divine

**4**

_to err is human; to forgive, divine_

* * *

Draco feels an odd sense of guilt as he watches Blaise stand and leave to change without a second thought or question. He tries, he really does but he could already feel his breath quickening and his chest tightening at the consuming thought of _even, even, even._

It's his natural reaction to evens. Ever since he was a child, for as long as he could remember, he never liked evens. It was debilitating and, frankly, embarrassing but the unnatural, curvy shape of 2 and the crooked, sharp angles of 4 all made him uncomfortable and sick to his stomach.

Draco's grateful for Blaise, though, because his head is always filled with numbers, always counting-multiples of threes and fives, number of utensils in the kitchen, the seams on the couch-and rampant thoughts that blend into one; they make Draco want to pull his hair out but when Blaise is near-the numbers, the thoughts, they all suddenly disappear.

He never wants to lose that.

He never wants to lose _Blaise._

Though, for the life of him, he can't fathom why Blaise still puts up with him, he knew he wasn't worth the effort. It's why he tries so hard not to show his discomfort at his fears. The man could be with anyone and every day he wakes up with Blaise by his side is still baffling to him.

He breaks out of his thoughts just as Blaise walks back into the room with a white plain shirt. He smiles at him as he says, "Better?"

"Much." Draco replies, relaxing further as Blaise sits next to him and he leans into him to give him three kisses on the lips. "Thanks."

Blaise waves away his gratitude just as Harry walks into the living room with three plates floating behind him. It was still odd for him to see him walk around his home like he was an old friend of his-although from what Blaise has told him he should be thanking the boy wonder.

"It took you thirty minutes and forty seconds to make sandwiches, Potter," Draco says with a scoff, then, turns to Blaise. "We really need to get a new chef."

Harry gives him a sheepish grin, "Sorry, I got caught up on something." Draco gives him a confused look, unsure what he meant but lets it go when Harry doesn't say anything except place a plate in front of him.

Blaise nods, thanking him when his plates lands on the coffee table. Draco stiffens next to him and his vision blurs as he stares down at his own plate, his clenches his hands tightly, desperately trying to fight the panic that was clawing it's way to the surface.

"Shit..." He breathes out, he feels as he couldn't move; the panic paralyzing his entire body and he feels so helpless. So useless.

"Draco?" Blaise asks with a frown. "Are you alright?"

Draco doesn't respond, his eyes trained to the plate, his breath picking up the more time seemed to pass.

"What is it?" Potter asks in concern.

"T-two...two..." He is gasping for air by the time he finishes and Blaise shoots into action.

"Damn it, Potter!" He curses as he takes the plate away from Draco's trembling hands and cut one sandwich to make it three. "I told you no even numbers!"

"S-shit, I'm sorry...I-I forgo-oh, Merlin, Draco..." Potter stutters out, his eyes wide in panic as Draco curls into himself, horizontally on the couch, his breathing comes out quicker and Blaise groans, he already knows he won't be getting any sleep tonight. "I'm so sorry…"

Draco doesn't hear his apology, he is too busy counting the tiny threads of the cushion near his head.

"Go, Potter," Blaise mutters to him as he crouches next to Draco and runs a hand through his hair as he counts, his body shaking and his eyes wet.

"Sorry...so sorry...no evens...don't like even…" Blaise rest his head on the armrest of the couch, his eyes shut tightly as his heart clenches tightly.

"Zabini...Blaise," He amends, his face is pale as he swallows thickly, "I am so sorry…" Harry looks pained, his big, green eyes filled with remorse as he steps closer to them. "I...should've remembered...I mean…Merlin, I didn't even realize it and..."

"Of course, you didn't," Blaise says, bitterly, "I told you this wouldn't be easy."

"It was a mistake." Potter whispers.

"Just go, Potter…" Blaise says, tiredly.

Potter flees.

* * *

Blaise didn't see Potter for the next two days, not that he was actively searching for the man or anything but it just seems odd. He scoffs at the idea that Potter was actually avoiding him; it seemed like such a childish thing to do.

Despite the long weekend, he didn't sleep well. Draco had constant nightmares that left them both with insomnia.

When he comes downstairs on Monday morning, Pansy is already sitting at the kitchen table, all smiles, as she places a plate of warm eggs, toast, and bacon on the table for him.

"Morning." Blaise says, tiredly as he slid in a chair.

"Good morning, sunshine," She replies, looking over him. "You look like glorious hippogriff shit."

"Thank you, Pansy, because I've certainly haven't noticed, " He replies, sarcastically, as he sits. "You're always so perspective."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, gorgeous," Pansy replies, amicably. "You look like shit." She says again as she hands him a cup of tea, giving him a look over. He was sure she was right; his hair looked like a mangled, curly nest, he had dark circles under his eyes and he was sure he hadn't shaven this morning.

"So, I've noticed." He drawls as he picks up his toast and bites into it.

"No jelly this time." She says in good humor and Blaise feels a rush of affection for Pansy as he wonders exactly what he would do if Pansy wasn't there.

Most likely starve.

"Thanks."

"So, how did the thing with Potter go this weekend?" Pansy looks pleased as she leans across the other side of the bar to steal a piece of his bacon. "I'm really happy you've decided to look into a competent healer like Potter for Dray." She goes on to say as she chews on her stolen bacon.

Blaise gives her a flat look, "Potter lasted until early Friday afternoon before he gave Dray an episode and freaked out about it-like the professional he truly is-so I told him to leave. So, yes, he is very competent in comparison to other Mind Healers who act like utter buffoons."

Pansy winces in sympathy, "That bad?"

"Just when I thought he was competent he went and messed it all up."

"That idiot," Pansy mutters with a frown. "So, how was it with Draco after he left?"

"Disaster." He replies, sighing. "I don't know what to do, Pansy."

"It'll be fine," Pansy says with a slight smile, "I'm sure Draco will be fine this morning. Where is he, anyways?"

"Shower." Blaise answers with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "We haven't slept in forty-eight hours, Pans."

"No way," She lets out an incredulous laugh but stops abruptly when Blaise glares at her. "Oh, Merlin, you're serious, aren't you?"

"I know it's been forty-eight hours because Draco counted every single minute of it." Blaise groans, burying his face in his hands.

She gives him an alarmed look and stands up abruptly, "Then, why are you still here? Go in early and sneak into a backroom for a few hours while I go hunt Potter down for causing this emotional stress on your pretty face."

"No, don't," Blaise smirks at her confused expression, "If anyone is killing him, it's me."

Pansy merely gives him an evil grin.

* * *

Blaise does exactly what Pansy says and finds an empty room to sleep in as he soon as he reaches his floor at St Mungo's, it was six-thirty, early enough that there was no one on the floor for which he is grateful for. He climbs into the sterilized bed and cover himself with the thin sheets, quickly drifting off to a welcomed sleep.

He startles awake a few hours later when he rolls off the small bed and fall to the ground, Blaise blinks up blearily up at the ceiling, momentarily confused to where he was until he sees the sun is already high in the sky and peeking through the window of the room. It all comes back to him like a punch in the gut and he curses as he checks his watch and find it to be already one in the afternoon.

"Natasha is going to kill me." He mutters in dread as he jumps up from the floor, ignoring the pain that shoots through his back and sprints out the room, he slows down his pace as he nears front of the reception desk where Natasha is already standing with a parchments in her hands and a pinched expression on her face.

"I'm so glad you decided to come to work today, Healer Zabini." Natasha says, a strained smile on her face. "Would you care to explain why you didn't see any of your patients this morning?"

"I…"

"Let me guess, it's Draco..." She cuts in before he can get an explanation out of his mouth.

"Natasha, I'm sorry...there is really nothing I can say that can rectify the fact that I'm late." Blaise says.

"For the _eleventh_ time, Blaise."

"I know." He groans, looking up to the ceiling as Natasha sighs.

"Blaise, I think you need to straighten out your priorities..." She says and pauses for a moment before, "Effective immediately, I am giving you a leave of absence indefinitely."

"Excuse me?" Blaise asks, slowly, with wide eyes. It felt as if a bucket of ice was just poured on top of him as he paled in horror.

"Your boyfriend is obviously more important than your career right now and I will not tolerate..."

"I am your best Healer," Blaise hisses, he takes a step forward. He ignores the curious glances he receives from patients that passed them. "You can't run this Department without me."

"Healer Zabini, I can and _will_ run this Department without you," Natasha says, sharply, her green eyes narrowed. "You will speak no further or I will sack you at this very moment -"

"This is my _career_ you're talking about, Natasha, my only income." Blaise says.

"Your boyfriend is Draco Malfoy, correct?" Natasha asks, flippantly, though he knew that she knew exactly who his boyfriend was. "Malfoy's are among the richest pure bloods in Britain, Blaise, so don't give me that bullshit."

"You know as well as I do that the Malfoy's vault had long been seized by the Ministry after the war." Blaise hisses in anger.

"You're a pureblood as well, I am sure you have received your title."

"As if my mother would ever let me near the Zabini's account as long as she lives." Blaise frowns and Natasha sighs.

"Look, Blaise, I'm sorry - _truly_ but you need time to sort everything out in your life." Natasha says, "Having you around with so much on your mind will only be a liability to St Mungo's and our patients."

"Natasha, you can't do this to me!" Blaise says, his voice raising slightly.

"I think I just did," She replied, her eyebrows raised in challenge. "Now, if that is all-"

"Healer Zabini!"

Blaise turns to see Potter rushing towards him. He raises his eyebrows in surprise, "Potter?"

"Thank you for taking the time this morning to help me with my case," Potter say as he pushes a folder into Blaise's hand and gives him a meaningful look which Blaise returns with his own confused one. "It is truly appreciated."

"I see," Natasha says, looking between the two. "Well, then."

"Hello, Natasha," Potter nods to her with a polite smile. "I see you're well."

"Potter," She says, shortly. "I don't appreciate you taking my Healers without my permission."

"Ah, sorry, it won't happen again." She makes a noise in the back of her throat, clearly not believing him.

"I didn't think you wanted any more excuses," Blaise manages to say quietly, his eyes still trained to Potter.

"This doesn't change anything," Natasha looks at him with a hard stare. "Take the day off to get your bearings and come in tomorrow at 8 o'clock sharp, do you understand?"

"Perfectly," She nods her head, satisfied with his answer and, after bidding Potter a curt goodbye, takes her leave.

"Well, that went well." Potter says, brightly, as Blaise turns to him with a frown. "Natasha never liked me." He goes on to explain with a grimace, "I think it was that Ministry ball two years ago, I dropped firewhisky on her..."

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Blaise cuts in what he is sure to be a long-winded, rambling retelling.

Potter looks confused, "Err..._helping you_? It looked like you were going to get sacked and...well, I know with Draco," He sighs when Blaise gives him an angered look, "-look, I'm sorry for Friday, I forgot, alright...I made a mistake... I'm_ human_ but that doesn't mean I don't want to help...I do, just give me a chance and I know that is asking a lot because-"

"How long were you spying on us?" Blaise gives him a suspicious look, "Have you been stalking me?"

Harry's eyes widen and he quickly says, "Merlin, no! I just happened to be at the right place at the right time and I have _great_ hearing, you know when I was ten, I heard my cousin Dudley-"

"Shut up, Potter." Blaise snaps at him, rubbing his temple and Potter shuts his mouth with an audible click. Blaise marvels at the power he suddenly has over Potter due to sheer guilt before he shakes his head and turns on his heel, heading towards the lift. He pauses after a few steps and looks over his shoulder to where Potter stood awkwardly, watching him leave with an odd expression on his face.

"Well, aren't you coming?" He doesn't wait for an answer this time as he continues his way to the lift.

This time Potter follows.


	5. with our eyes wide open, we rise & fall

**5**

_with our eyes wide open, we rise and fall_

* * *

"I thought you went to go kill him," Pansy says, disgruntled, once she spots Potter behind Blaise as they enter the kitchen. "Not bring him here like a stray dog."

"I've decided he would be more useful to us alive than dead," Blaise replies, shrugging his shoulders as he slips out of his robe. "You were the one who suggested we get professional help." He points out, accusingly, as if it's her entire fault that they were now stuck with Potter.

"That was before he messed with Draco," Pansy gives Potter an evil eye. "I know you're a softie so, if you wish, I have this _excellent_ poison—"

"That won't be necessary, I'll rid of him myself if he's more trouble than he's worth." Blaise says, casually, and Pansy makes a noise of agreement as she takes a sip of tea.

"Okay, can we stop talking about my premeditated murder as if I'm not here?" Potter looks at them both, uneasily. "Do I have to sleep with one eye open or...?"

"You hurt Draco and you will be dead before you even have a chance to close one eye." Pansy snaps at him, narrowing her eyes in warning. "He is my best friend and I'll be damned to see him suffer anymore."

"Why Parkinson I didn't know you were capable of human emotions," Potter says, donning a shocked face as he sits at the table. "I thought your shriveled heart stopped working centuries ago."

Blaise snorts at that, leaning against the counter. "I think he will fit in nicely with us."

"Oh, yes, if we want Draco constantly in an episode that is." Pansy mutters, bitterly. "He's more of an liability if anything else."

"Be nice." Blaise replies, lightly.

"I just don't approve of you bringing in strays."

"Ouch, that really hurts," Potter points to his chest, a sarcastic smile on his face. "Right here."

"I will eat you alive."

"You are the woman every mother wants for their son," Potter says, sarcastically, as he glares heatedly at her. "Untrained and unfiltered."

"I'll show you unfiltered, you little—!"

"If you two are done chewing at each other," Blaise intervenes as he pushes Pansy back into her seat where she mumbles to herself angrily. "Where is Draco, Pansy?"

"He's been in his lab since this morning." Pansy says, sourly, examining her fingernails. "He was muttering something about breakthrough and such."

Potter shoots her a worried look, "Do you think that is a good idea?"

Pansy raises her eyebrow in a condescending manner, "Draco and a lab are usually a good combination, Potter."

"Draco doesn't allow people into his lab," Blaise explains further as he makes his way to the refrigerator and opens it. "Are you staying for lunch, Pans?"

"Yeah," Pansy sighs, leaning back heavily. "It isn't like I have a job or anything."

Blaise makes a sympathetic noise, "You're still job hunting?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so—"

"Wait, wait," Potter cuts in, looking between the two ex-Slytherins in worry. "So, we're just going to ignore the fact that Draco is in a room full of explosive items?"

"Draco is very capable with Potions, Potter." Blaise says, slowly, as if he was stupid. "He will be fine."

"Draco isn't particularly sane," Potter snaps back and flinches back when they both give him a death glare, he shivers at the intensity. "Sorry, sorry, it's just...I—"

"I'll check up on him." Blaise says, having mercy on the raven-haired man as Pansy actually growls at him.

"No, I'll go…" Potter says, immediately, standing up. He gives Pansy a wary look as she snaps her teeth at him. " Stay here and put a leash on _that_. Where is he?"

Blaise cast a hard look at him, he was still unsure of where he stood in trusting Potter; no matter how much the man was eager to help. "Potter…"

"Please," Potter says, softly, before Blaise can say anything else, his eyes bright. "I have some apologizing to do."

"The second floor, third door on the right."

He nods and leaves without another word.

"You're such a softie for big, puppy eyes." Pansy teases, a knowing smile on her face. "Actually, you're just a softie, period."

Blaise grunts.

* * *

If Harry Potter was anything, he was curious. When Zabini stopped that lift for him, he knew his curiosity couldn't be kept at bay. He had played ignorant—of _course,_ he'd read the Daily Prophet and _of course,_ he knew Zabini and Malfoy had gotten together—to get information out of Zabini and he was sure the man had saw right through him but he had gotten good at reading people, _really well._

The way Zabini had tensed at his questioning of Malfoy's whereabouts had made him curious. His curt answer had made him suspicious and his instincts screamed out to him—_seek, find._

_But this...this was definitely something I didn't expect,_ he muses as he climbs up the mahogany stairs, the wood shines under his feet and he almost feels unworthy as his mud covered boots leaves a trail.

He was still baffled as to why Zabini had allowed him to come along and was still shocked at the state of Malfoy, in that one minute he had seen Malfoy in his condition he had already figured out what was wrong with him. He seen them countless times in countless people.

Despite his obsession with the blond, he and Malfoy never had a healthy or friendly relationship to begin with. So, he was surprised that Malfoy had responded so well to him and he just had to go and mess it up. He vows silently that he would be more attentive to Draco; a case has never intrigued him as much as Malfoy's and he wasn't sure if it was because it was _Malfoy_ or it was his 'people-saving thing' as Hermione affectionately calls it.

Either way, he was thankful for the second chance to make things right.

He finally reaches the third door on the second floor and knocks on the door, guilt twisting in his gut. When he only received mumbles in response, he tried the knob and, surprisingly, found the door open. Inside was a large area—most likely by magic—the walls were painted a soft peach color and several windows in the far wall allowed light to enter the room, the ceiling was high and two long, tables were pushed together, stacks upon stacks of neatly and orderly piled parchments laid on them, quills and other trinkets as well.

The two walls parallel to the tables held tall, never ending shelves of different materials, neatly labelled alphabetically in jars, from bat's spit and newt's eye to crushed Fairy's wings and snake's venom.

In front of the tables, Draco stood surrounded by different colored fumes floating in the air, three cauldrons bubbling as he moved around fluidly and efficiently to care for them all. He was mumbling under his breath as he worked, his gray eyes trained on his work, something similar to a clear bubble covered his mouth and nose.

Harry watches him work in awe for a few moments until, "Shut the door," Draco snaps at him and he quickly obeys, stepping in, and realizes that inside was suffocating. "The third potion will be ruined if it is touched with oxygen." A minute too late, Harry realizes why there was a bubble around Draco.

"Shit…!" He chokes, trying to gasp for air as his hands moves up to his throat as his lungs constricts painfully.

"Oh, sorry," Draco mutters, not even giving him a glance as he flicks his wand and Harry stumbles forwards as he swallows gulps of sweet air as a bubble forms around his nose and mouth. "That's just a Bubble-Head spell."

Harry nods, a bit breathless, though he was sure Draco didn't care for his presence.

"What can I do for you, Potter?" Draco asks as he sets his second cauldron to a low heat and looks at him with clear, gray eyes.

"How did—?"

"You're the only one who would be idiotic enough to disturb me while I cook." Draco snorts and turns to where a small notebook, tattered and old, laid on the table. "So, have you come to admire me or talk?"

"I'm sorry," Harry blushes as he steps forward, the fumes from the cauldrons causing his glasses to fog over and his eyes sting. "I just wanted to—"

"Apologize?" Draco finishes, reproachfully. "You haven't wronged me in anyway so there is no reason to apologize, Potter," He shrugs as he taps the page three times with the tip of his quill before he jots something else down. "I'm sorry that you had to see me so pathetic and useless—"

"No," Harry says, firmly, stepping a bit closer. "I don't think that at all, you're the strongest person I've ever seen. To know that you have to deal with this all and you can stand here and—"

Draco cuts him off with a harsh laugh that sounded self-deprecating and harsh. "You're so naive, Potter." He sighs, his shoulders slumping. "I'm so broken…"

"I don't see a broken man in front of me." Potter says, "You're an idiot if you think otherwise."

"Don't piss me off, Potter," Draco growls, "I assure you, knowing my boyfriend, Blaise is right out that door eavesdropping."

"I never doubted that," Harry's mouth quirks up, "Like I said, I don't see a broken man in front of me."

"Because I don't show you how broken I am," Draco grits out, he focuses back on his potions. "If I'm startled, I become a complete mess...or I panic because the number isn't right or Pansy spreads jelly on the toast_ four_ times and not _three_..." He lets out a sigh, "I can't sleep without waking Blaise and when I wake up without seeing him, like yesterday, I panic...Pansy stays here instead of looking for work...I...I just bring misery to everyone around me."

"Draco, that isn't true…." Potter feels sympathy for this man and his wish to help him only grows every minute in his presence. "There is no one that loves you more than those two."

"They are going to hate me," Draco's breath hitches and Harry steps forward in alarm at his panicked voice. "They will resent me and Blaise will finally leave me for one of those wenches who throw themselves all over him because he's so damn gorgeous and I'm...I'm pathetic, bitter, and a horrible person." He attempts to stir the first potion but only manages to spill some of it on the ground which he cleans with a flick of his wand immediately. "It's only a matter of time before Blaise sees that and leave."

"Shut up," Harry growls, his hands tightening into tight fist. "Shut up or I'll sock you in your pretty face." Draco looks at him in surprise. "You have no right to speak about yourself like that. Merlin, Draco, you're smart, witty, brave and so strong, you don't even know your own worth."

"You think I'm pretty?" Draco looks at him with a smug smirk.

"Merlin," Harry lets out a boisterous laugh that reverberates against the walls. "Is that all you've heard from my little speech?"

"It's the only thing that was important."

"You little shit," He says, affectionately, before he sobers up. "I...you know...I had PTSD when the war was over...I had nightmares and irritability… sometimes, flashbacks and I even had thoughts of suicide but I got through it, overcame it and I know you will too." Harry sighs as Draco turns around, his shoulder stiff as he writes down something in the tattered notebook with shaky hands. "I understand what you're going through...not all of it but most of it, and, yeah, it's hard; especially, those days when all you can think about is the war, death, misery and, even, a pin drop can give you a panic attack but — it's a part of you that heals with time."

Draco is silent after that, busying himself with his potions and Harry is content to watch; when Draco is ready to talk, he would be there for him.

"What are you working on?" Harry asks, softly, after the silence became too stifling for him.

"A modified version of Wolfsbane, a vaporized sleeping potion and...the last one is a secret." Draco smiles, slightly.

"You really good at this," Harry compliments, impressed, "My potion never looked so non-volatile...do you plan to sell?"

"I-I hope so." He looks away. "I want to manufacture them under my surname but Malfoy hold such bad connotations…"

"Draco, you're brilliant. The only person I know who could make a successful Wolfsbane is dead and from what I've heard since the war, the werewolf population has gone up. If you can mass produce, this can save lives..._you_ can save lives," Potter says, as he adjusts his glasses. "No one will care for your name."

"I'll think about it."

Harry gives him a smile before he looks around at the large spacious bedroom-turned-potion-lab, "Your flat is very large, almost like a house."

"It was a gift from my grandfather before he passed," Draco explains, quietly. "Blaise actually wanted something smaller but I love it."

"It's really nice."

Draco nods his head and Harry watches as he stirs the third cauldron three times, pauses, then stir another three times before repeating. "Are you always counting?" He finally asks, curious.

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I'm actually quite obsessed with the number three, currently," He says, shame tinging his tone. "But I can't help it, there is always numbers in my head, it's never ending."

"And you don't like evens…?" Harry asks, hesitantly.

"No evens." Draco lets out a shaky breath and his hands trembles a bit at the thought.

"I'm sorry, I will remember now." He will remember because even if it meant nothing for Harry that there was an even number of things, it meant the world to Draco.

"Thank you."

"Is there ever a time when there isn't? Numbers, I mean."

Draco shrugs a small smile on his face. "When Blaise is near."

Harry nods, "It's just proof that you love him more than the numbers." He says, quietly, enviously wishing he could have that type of love as well.

"I suppose since you're asking so many question that Blaise has hired you," Draco gives him a smirk, changing the subject. "I'm not an idiot, I know you're a Mind Healer so what did you have to do?" Draco looks at him with interest, "Blaise is protective...oh, Merlin, did you have to eat hippogriff's dung to get the job?"

"Uh...it's pending."

"The feces or the job?"

"Draco."

"He told me that you calmed me down when I had a panic attack...usually, only Blaise can do that...so thank you." He mutters, refusing to make eye contact with him as his cheek tinged a slight pink.

Harry gives him a comforting smile just as the door opens and Zabini walks in, a soft smile on his features. "Lunch is ready." Harry nods and made to walk past him but is stopped when Blaise places a warm hand on his shoulder, "A session a week, Harry."

It takes Harry a moment to understand what the man meant and he gasped once he fully understood. He nods, dazedly, before he gives Draco an uncertain look over his shoulder, hyper aware of the blond's wants and needs all of a sudden.

Draco merely gives him a reassuring smile.


	6. and the walls kept tumbling down

**6**

_and the walls kept tumbling down_

* * *

"Wake up, sweet cheeks," Blaise teases into Draco's ear on Wednesday morning as he wraps his arms around his boyfriend's waist.

"You're a sap," Draco says, softly, as he rolls over and comes face to face with his boyfriend's warm, brown eyes. He smiles lovingly as Blaise's lips descends down on to his own, he moans as Blaise's soft lips peppers his face with butterfly kisses. "Though, I don't mind this at all."

"You haven't had an episode in two days," Blaise says, his voice tinged with pride. "That is something to be happy about."

"I suppose." Draco hums, letting out a yawn. "Or a huge one is coming."

"Draco," Blaise says, half whine and half exasperated. "Don't be so pessimistic."

"I'm not, honey bunches," He smirks as Blaise glares at him, "I'm being realistic."

"Or being pessimistic." Blaise says in retaliation, Draco shrugs, a frown on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing to worry your pretty head about."

"Come on," Blaise's eyes soften as he looks him over, "I know that look, there's something on your mind."

Draco looks away and shakes his head, "It's nothing."

"It's something if it's bothering you," He leans up to stroke the blond's cheek. "What's wrong?"

"The first session is…"

Comprehension dawned on Blaise as he sat up and gathered Draco into his lap, "Oh, babe."

"I don't think I can…"

"Hey," Blaise lifts up his chin so he was looking into those grey eyes he loved so much. "I'm going to be right there with you and if you aren't ready to speak, then you don't have to."

Draco nods his head against his chest, his breaths coming out in tiny, gasping pants. "Okay...okay."

"You can do this."

"I can do this." He repeats, he calms and kisses Blaise's neck. "Thank you."

Blaise kiss him on the top of his head and says, softly, "I love you."

"Say it again and mean it." He whispers, automatically, and internally, flinches because even if he's said that same exact line every single time Blaise told him he loved him in the past, he knew it was inappropriate at this moment.

Blaise pushes him back to meet his eyes, "I _do _mean it, I…" He let out a slow breath to calm his rising anger and release his tight hold on the blond. He gently pushes Draco off of him. "I'm going to shower."

"Blaise..." Draco sighs, sitting up.

"No, Draco, like what does that even _mean?_" He lets out a frustrated laugh and Draco wants to flinch at the harsh sound, "You know what? I don't even want to know, I'll be in the shower."

Draco doesn't say a word, even when he wants to plead Blaise back to bed, have him make love to him and not fear of getting semen on the bed or inside him, not to panic with the thoughts of _germs germs germs _when Blaise kisses him. He wants to make Blaise _happy _but he always does the opposite.

He's not enough.

He was never enough.

He doesn't say a word, doesn't move as Blaise walks out of the room and Draco…

Draco lets him go.

* * *

"You look like shit, what's got your wand in a knot?" Harry says to Draco as he holds out a plate of steaming breakfast for him as he walks into the kitchen. Draco's stomach clenches in fear and he suddenly feels dizzy at the action.

"I...don't like being handed things." He manages to say through the panic and is grateful when Harry doesn't question him but nods and places the plate at the bar that separates the stove and cabinets from the rest of the kitchen.

He sits on a stool and smiles when he sees his food are neatly separated from each other and in threes. "Thank you." He says, his voice portraying his gratitude and appreciation for Harry's consideration.

"Not a problem," Harry chirps, happily, proud he had done something right.

"I'm a horrible boyfriend." He mumbles, answering Harry's question from earlier. "I'm a horrible, horrible, horrible person."

Harry whistles, "Three horrible? That's bad."

"I'll run away and he'll never have to see me again," Draco lays his head on his folded arms, miserably. "He'll be much happier."

"Did you and Blaise have a fight?" Harry asks, giving him a curious look.

"I...it's…" Draco groans when he couldn't relay what happened.

"What is it, Draco?" Harry asks, gently.

"He told me he loved me…" He finally blurts out.

Harry looks confused, "I believe the general consensus is that if you love someone, you tell them…"

Draco looks up at him with wide, desperate eyes, "Harry...I...I can't say it."

Harry jolts forward, his breakfast temporarily forgotten. "What?"

Draco looks as if he was being torn apart as he digs his nails into the center of the dark mark on his left forearm. "I never told Blaise that I...that…"

"Wait, you don't love him?" Harry widens his eyes as comprehension finally dawns on him, "You mean in four years, you…"

"Never!" He hisses in despair, his nails breaks skin but he pays no mind to the blood that runs down his arm. "I'm so stupid…"

"Draco!" Harry says in alarm as he sees the blood.

"He hates me, he does, I know he does."

"Draco, stop...stop!" He reaches over the bar to grab a hold of Draco's right arm and gently pulls it away from his injured left. "Merlin, you're bleeding."

"Sorry." He mumbles, watching as Harry waves the apology away and pulls out his wand. Bile rises from his stomach and he suddenly wants to vomit when the wand points at him.

"No! No! No!" He screeches, slapping the wand away from his arm, it clatters to the floor. "No, wands...please…please…"

"Okay," Harry soothes, holding both of his hands in the air. "No wands...right...I'll go get a wrap."

"No," Draco says firmly. "It's just a scratch."

"Draco…"

"I'm fine."

Harry drops it as Draco picks up his fork and begins to eat. He ignores the raven-haired man's concerned looks and tries not to focus on the throb of pain each time he moves his arm.

He deserves this.

Blaise walks in thirty minutes later, a towel wrapped around his shoulder and shirtless. Only grey sweatpants hangs low on his hips as he towel dries his hair and Draco tries not to count the water beads he sees on his muscled chest as they trail down to his navel.

* * *

"You're bleeding." Blaise points out with a concerned frown when they move to the living room to begin their first session of therapy.

"Thank you, I haven't noticed." He retorts, bitterly, and he closes his eyes at his stupidity.

Why?

Why does he try to push him away?

Blaise frowns at him but doesn't answer; instead, he takes his left arm in his hold and examines it. The half-crescent shape of his fingernail still apparent and deep in his skin. "Would you like ointment?"

The pain is bearable now and he deserves this, after what he's done to Blaise. He doesn't deserve such kindness, such love.

"I'm fine, okay." He croaks, taking his arm back from his boyfriend's grip and a expression he can't quite discern goes across Blaise's face before he lets out a deep sigh.

"Draco…"

And here it was, here was the breakup. He steeled himself to hear all the words he knew were inevitably true.

Cruel, unlovable, insane...

"I'm sorry for this morning," Draco looks up at Blaise in alarm at his words. "I shouldn't have said that...not when you obviously don't feel the same…I'm such an idiot," He let out a small laugh, dark and bitter. "Of course, you couldn't, I should have known after four years but I always hoped…" He trails off again and Draco feels as if someone was tearing his heart apart. "I shouldn't have gotten mad and I shouldn't have even said that...you obviously don't feel the same."

Draco's eyes widen in horror as Blaise turns away from him and walks away to sits on the far end of the beige couch. His heart ache because Blaise was apologizing for saying he _loved _him and — he really, really, really _was _a bad person.

_I don't deserve you, _Draco thinks morosely as he gazes down at his hands, thin and pale and fit so perfectly with Blaise, larger and darker ones. The only touch that didn't make under his skin crawl.

Did he...did he really just ruin their relationship?

Was Blaise finally seeing he wasn't worth the effort?

"Alright," Harry breaks his train of thoughts as he claps his hands together, "Let get started, yeah?"


	7. one breath in this moment

**7**

_one breath in this moment_

* * *

"Harry…" Draco begins, softly, his eyes trained to his hands. "I don't want to do this."

"Hey," Harry says, softly, causing him to look up at him hesitantly. "I'm not expecting you to spill your guts on the first session...this takes time. We're going to start off slow today."

Draco looks doubtful of his words but nods, giving Blaise a sideways glance. Blaise isn't looking at him at all, instead focused on the wall , his chin resting on his hand and his face stoic, it tears at Draco's heart.

"Okay, Draco," Harry says, slowly, and Draco turns back to him with blank eyes. "How are you feeling today?"

It sounded like such an idiotic question that Draco shrugs uncertainly, "Fine, I suppose." His eyes strays to Blaise again but the other man refuses to meet his eyes.

"Do you feel anxious about anything? Saddened?" Potter prods, looking at him critically and for some reason it irks Draco.

"I…" He cast a look at Blaise, once more. "I...well, yes."

"Yes?" Harry is looking between him and Blaise, a frown on his face and Draco knows he's figured it out by the way his eyes lights up a moment after.

"Yes, saddened." He clarifies; he looks to the side refusing to make eye contact with either of them. He didn't want to be here, this was a horrible idea to begin with and he should have never agreed to Potter's stupid session—

"Draco, if you're uncomfortable with Blaise being here, he can leave…"

"No!" He shouts in panic without even thinking. He takes a deep breath to calm himself as Harry raises his eyebrows at him. "Please, I'm fine with him here."

"You seemed panic when I said that," Draco realizes a minute too late what Harry was doing. Draco turns his head away from him and he hears Harry sighs. "Draco, I won't break into your mind if you don't want to but I will if you won't speak with me."

"Like hell, Potter," Blaise growls, sitting up straighter. "I won't allow that."

Potter ignores him and looks at Draco, "Why Blaise leaving scares you?" He asks, softly.

"It doesn't." Draco snaps, he clenches at his jeans. "He can leave as much as he likes."

"You know that isn't true, Draco," Harry says, his lips thinning. "You know you couldn't bear to see Blaise leave this very room without a ritual of sorts."

"Shut up, Potter," Draco hisses, because he was right, Potter was always _freaking_ right. "You know nothing."

"What is it then," Harry asks, leaning against the chair calmly. Blaise looks at him in confusion, unsure as to what he was doing while Draco's breath quickens. "Three taps on the shoulder? Kisses? or maybe—"

"No, no, _no, _we're not…" Draco is close to hyperventilating by now. "No."

"Deep breaths, Draco, in and out," Harry instructs, softly, "That's it."

Once Draco is calm, he speaks, evenly, "I don't want to talk about that. We are _not_ talking about that."

"Why not?" Harry pushes as Blaise shifts in his seat. "This has nothing to do with your PTSD but everything to do with your panic attacks each time Blaise leaves you." Harry is looking at him, critically, and Draco's vision swims at the magnitude of his observation because Potter is _so right,_ so, so right.

"Why, Draco?" Harry asks, again, firmly this time. "Is the idea of Blaise never coming back too much to bear? Is that why you must do something before he leaves so he will come back?"

"That not—!" Tears prick at his eyes and he presses the heel of his palm again them. "You know nothing, Potter." He hisses, again, and turns away from him.

"Why, Draco?"

Draco shakes his head, frantically, his mind whirring with panicked thoughts. Never has a Mind Healer left him so open—could read him so easily. It was frightening, he was used to the magical means of prying into his mind to find out what was wrong with him, this—this was entirely new to him.

"Draco, why?" Potter repeats, firmly.

"I don't know!" He rasps out, his hands shaking. "I don't bloody well know."

"You do know, Draco, you do…" Potter says his tone hard. "Why do you panic at the mere thought of Blaise leaving to go to work or the very room?"

"Because…!" He finally snaps and the silence afterwards is deafening and suffocating all at the same time. He can't breath, his chest feel tight and everything feels so damn close. "Because I'm scared…"

He can feel Blaise's eyes on him now, calm and sharp as he takes in his shuddering breath and shaking form; he must look a mess.

"Why are you so scared?" Potter asks, gently this time.

"I don't want him to leave…"Draco chokes out, he finally raises his eyes up to look at Blaise. "Please, don't leave me."

Harry stops Blaise from speaking with a raised hand and says, "Why do you think he will leave?"

"Because of me," Draco says, roughly, his grip on his thighs like steel. "I can't say…"

"You love him." Harry finishes for him, he leans forward.

"That's all he asks for in return," Draco lets out a bitter laugh. "I can't even do that right."

"Draco…" Blaise finally turns to him, "I'm head over heels for you, I won't leave you because you can't say those words. I understand something is stopping from your past is preventing you from saying them. It hurts but..."

"I'm not good with words, Blaise…" Draco says his head still bowed. "My actions speak louder, the fact that you can even hold me…"

"I know." He replies, gently.

"It must be hard," Harry says, he sits back in his seat. "I never went through what you two been through but I'm willing to help you through it." He taps his chin in thought before he says, "Draco, I think it will be best if you write down what you're feeling each day or tell Blaise or me, sometimes," He watches silently as Blaise moves to kneel down next to Draco. "Maybe, take walks in the morning to get out of the house and interact with other human beings that aren't Blaise, Parkinson or I. It will help with your anxiety when you're away from Blaise for a while. I'll go with you if you like."

"That would be nice." Draco says, his voice trembling and his tears threatening to fall over.

"We have a long road to healing ahead of us, Draco," Harry says, watching them silently. "But this is a start."

"I was being selfish," Blaise says, stroking his leg. "I shouldn't have wanted all of you when you weren't ready to give it to me."

Draco shakes his head, his hands covering his face to hide the fact he's crying. "No, I'll be better...I'll be better...d-don't leave me…" He chants as Blaise strokes his legs in comfort.

"Breathe, Draco, breathe...I'm here…I'm not leaving you." Blaise says, softly as he moves up to sit on the couch and pulls Draco into his lap where the blond curls up and continue his muttering. "Our relationship is strained but...I'll never leave you, love. We'll figure this out...together."

"I'm not worth the effort," Draco sniffles, his voice muffled by his hands. "I'm so shit with my emotions and I've hurt you, I'm a horrible human being...I shouldn't be alive."

Harry hesitantly sits on his left side and runs a hand through Draco's hair and oddly, Blaise's doesn't mind. They sit in silence like that for what seems like hours as they lose track of time and is lulled to a peaceful silence by the crackling fire.

Blaise finally breaks the silence when he leans to Draco's ear, where he can hear clearly the blond counting in fives, and whispers, "I want you to live."

* * *

Blaise doesn't remember falling asleep but he wakes up sometime later with Harry's arms wrapped around him and Draco in his arms. Still in the haze of sleep, he feels oddly content despite the fact that it had been an emotionally jarring day so far and he was currently chest to back with someone that wasn't his boyfriend.

"So much for that patient-healer barrier," Blaise mutters, shaking his head a bit.

He shifts experimentally seeing if he could get out of Harry's tight grip but the man only seemed to hold on tighter the more he moves. It was futile as Harry mumbles, incoherently, and pushes him deeper into the large couch and he sighs, laying his head back on the cushion as he begins drifting off to the image of Harry's embarrassed face once he wakes up as he realizes that he gladly cuddled with two Slytherins.

"Did you mean what you said?"

He nearly jumps out of his skin at the soft voice against his chest and looks down to see Draco looking up at him, his eyes clear as if he hadn't slept at all—and mostly likely that was the case. "What?"

Draco's voice is still a mere whisper, "What you said...did you mean it?"

Blaise is still in a sleep haze and he struggles to remember what he says, "I don't know…"

"It's okay if you…" Draco trails off, his fingers tracing invisible patterns into Blaise's shirt. "I mean…"

"What is it?" Blaise asks, drowsily. Harry snores softly in his ear and he had to admit he was way too warm and comfortable for him to be following Draco's train of thought right now.

"Did you mean it when you said you wanted me to live?" Draco says, his breath hitches as he waits for an answer. "I-I know I can be troublesome and…"

"I meant it." Blaise says, firmly, even in his sleepy haze he knew this meant a lot to his boyfriend to hear that. He leans down to kiss him slowly on the lips. It always feel like a breath of fresh air when he kisses Draco but he craves more—he always craves more—but he wouldn't do anything Draco didn't initiate. "I want you to live; I would be lost without you."

Draco is silent and, for a moment, Blaise thinks he has finally drifted off to sleep so he closes his eyes and tries to savor this warmth he is entrapped in as long as he can.

"It would be me who would be lost without you," Draco finally answers after a few minutes, he kisses Blaise chest three times. "I can only wish I can give more of myself to you, the more that I heal."

Draco is content after that to run his finger over Blaise's shirt, finding comfort in the steady heartbeat that greet his touch in his restlessness as Blaise sleeps on.


	8. I finally found a silver lining

**8**

_I finally found a silver lining_

* * *

Harry snickers over a piece of parchment two days later at the Burrow. Ron gives him a perplexed look as he passes him.

"You're up early, mate."

Harry hums in distraction as he writes:** Quit it, Ron's giving me an odd look.**

He watches as the word vanish instantly and it eerily reminds him of Riddle's diary. It was actually a spell that Draco had taught him that tied his magical signature to the parchment; it allowed him to send messages instantly to the parchment Draco had.

**Send the knot head my love.**

Harry smirks and writes back,** I'm sure he'll appreciate that. **He looks up at Ron and says, "Good morning."

Ron laughs, "That's what I said twenty minutes ago."

"Sorry, I got distracted."

"Another case?" Ron asks, curiously as he looks over his shoulder, he frowns when he see nothing. He shrugs and moves away.

**I'm a bit under the weather this morning; I don't think I'll have that walk.**

**Nice try. I'll be there at eight.**

"Something like that," Harry grins, happily, as he stands, stretching. "See you later, mate."

* * *

"Why are you packing a suitcase?" Blaise asks as he steps out of the bathroom from a shower. He watches Draco for a moment, running across the room and mumbling before he shakes his head. "Fine, I won't ask."

"This is frightening." Draco says, as he pulls on blue sweatpants and a loose, white t-shirt. Blaise watches him, silently, as he sits on their bed. "I'm going to die." He throws in a yellow shirt in the suitcase.

"Do you plan to run away?" Blaise asks, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm going to die." He throws in his favorite trousers next.

"Draco," Blaise catches his hands as he pass by to stop him. "Its going to be okay."

Draco shudders, tearing away from Blaise's grip and stumbling to the bathroom. Blaise tries to bury his hurt when he hears the water run, tries to reason that it was only because Draco was anxious that he's doing all this. He walks to the bathroom, calmly, to find Draco scrubbing at his hand furiously with a bar of soap, an almost crazed look in his eyes as he mumbles, "Sorry...sorry...germs..."

Blaise leans against the doorway and says, "It'll be okay, love."

Draco shakes his head, frantically, "Please, don't make me go..."

"I'm sorry," Blaise looks pained, "But it'll be okay, you'll be okay. Harry will be with you."

"Okay, okay," He takes in deep breaths just like Harry taught him. "Okay."

"It's only a walk."

"I haven't been out of the house in ages." Draco turns to look at him with wide, fearful eyes. "What if something eats me?"

Blaise can't help but laugh at that, walking over to him to steal a kiss. "I'm sure the squirrels will be nice to newcomers of the world."

Draco scowled, "Very funny." He fiddles with the strings on his sweatpants, nervously, for a moment until Blaise takes them gently from his grasps and ties them. "I'm going to die."

"You'll do fine," Blaise assures him, giving him another kiss once he's done. "I have to go, now, Mungo's called me in early." he pulls away reluctantly.

Draco squashes the disappointment he feels as he asks, "You're not coming? I thought you were coming."

Blaise shakes his head, "Maybe next time."

"Stay a bit longer, at least." Draco pleads him, softly, he juts out his bottom lip in a pout knowing Blaise couldn't resist him then.

Blaise sighs, "Sorry, there have been more emergencies at Mungo's than usual. They need me."

_I need you, too. _"But I never get to see you."

"I'll make time for you, soon." Blaise promises.

_You always say that._ "If you say so," Draco replies, doubtfully.

"It'll cool down after a week," Blaise says, "Then, I'm all yours."

"Wait!" Draco calls when Blaise turns and readies himself to apparate. He turns back to him, startled. "You only gave me two kisses, I need another one." He couldn't start his day with two kisses, it would be bad luck.

Blaise smiles, obligingly, and leans forward for a quick peck, "Sorry, my prince. Have a good day."

"You too, sexy." Then, he is gone.

Draco stands there for five minutes, grinning like a fool.

* * *

"Are you prepared to die for me?" Draco asks as he exits out the front door and goes down the steps where Harry is waiting.

Harry laughs, "I don't think I will have to but if a dog tries to piss on you, I will obligingly sacrifice my body."

Harry's lightheartedness calms Draco's frazzled nerves as he wiggles his fingers, "I don't know what to do with my hands."

"Come on," Harry says, walking down the narrow path that leads to the sidewalk. "Just a tiny walk around the neighborhood."

"I never knew there was a path here," Draco mutters as he walks slowly to the picket fence. "Or a fence."

"You'll do fine." Harry reassures, his mouth twitches upward.

"I don't know my neighbors," Draco goes on, looking at his surrounding as he takes the final step from where the path connects to the sidewalk. He looks up at the sky and squints, "Was the sky always this blue?"

"Yes, Draco." Harry laughs.

"Don't laugh, I don't remember." Draco mutters.

"Well, we'll rediscover the world together." Harry replied, happily, as they walk down the sidewalk and Draco looks around to see more people than he's comfortable with.

A man is jogging across the street while a woman is walking her dog. There are children playing in the street, laughing boisterously as birds chirped in the sky and critters scattered at the ground, the suddenness of it all frightens Draco. And he suddenly wants to run back to the safety of his home where he didn't have to worry about noise and germs and—

"You're fine," Harry whispers into his ear as he pushes him forward. "You're okay. They aren't even looking at you."

Draco nods his head and slips his hand into Harry's, too caught up in his fears and anxiety to worry about germs and if Harry minded, he didn't say; only squeezing his hand tightly as they walked down the sidewalk. "Is this a muggle neighborhood?"

"No, it's intermingled; there are both wizards and muggles here," Harry murmurs, he smiles politely as a woman pass them with her child while Draco ducks his head, shyly. "Or that's what Blaise said."

Draco nods his head, accepting the answer and squeaking as a bird flies and lands right in front of him. "Harry, there's a bloody bird in front of me…" He squeaks, holding Harry's hand in a tight grip, "Oh, Merlin, can you imagine how filthy the thing is...what if it attacks me…"

"Draco, calm," Harry says, squeezing his hand as he takes a step forward and the bird quickly flies away. "They are more afraid of you then you are of them."

Draco lets out a relieved laugh, and some of his anxiety lessens as he continues to walk and soon enough, he starts to enjoy the walk. There is a cool breeze that rustles the branches of the large trees ahead and a few brown leaves fall to the ground, the sky is clear and blue and the sun is beaming high and hot.

"You see, you're enjoying yourself." Harry says pleased after a few minutes when they stop by a small pond to feed the ducks.

"Well, I suppose," He fidgets, "It isn't that bad."

"I'm really proud of you," Harry says, grinning as he watches Draco give the ducks the bread. "This is a huge step for you."

Draco shrugs; he rips the bread into three pieces and throws it in the water. He watches as the ducks eagerly come forward to fight over the pieces of bread, "They look so content, just waddling in a small pond."

"They do."

"I wish life could be that simple for me."

"It can if you want it to be."

"My fears can't just go away." Draco laughs, "It's not that simple,_ life's _not that simple."

"We can try." Harry says, shrugging. "One day you'll be able to share your fear with us and we'll be there to help you."

"How can you be so optimistic?" Draco asks as he sits crossed legged on the soft grass. "How can you be so sure of it all?"

"I just live my life, Draco," He chuckles as he sits next to him, Draco instantly grabs his hand to hold and Harry merely smiles. "I don't want to regret anything."

"Do you regret meeting me?"

Harry pauses to think about it, "Not really because if I did, I wouldn't be sitting here next to you."

"You let go of things too easily." Draco grumbled, rubbing his fingers over Harry's knuckles and leans his head on his shoulder.

Harry smiles, indulgently, "If you say so."

They sit in companionable silence for a while, watching as the ducks fought over the soggy, mushed bread in the water. One ferocious duck going as far as pecking another in the eye as he swiftly grabbed the bread and swam away from the group.

"It's a kill or be killed world, Draco." Harry says softly as he watches. "You just have to decide if you're doing the killing or being killed."

"The world is a scary place, isn't it, Harry?" He replies his voice rough as he watches the duck eating the bread quickly, out of reach from rest of his group.

"Only if you want it to be."


	9. you close your eyes, nothing's changed

**9**

_if you close your eyes, nothing's changed_

* * *

"It truly has been too long, hasn't it, boy?" A voice whispers in his ear as the door shuts behind him and he shivers at the hot, stale breath. "Do you have it on?"

"Yes." Draco says, trying to quell his trembling as he raises his left wrist to him, a silver bracelet dangles from his left wrist. It's been the ban of his existence for as long as he can remember, controlling him. Always controlling him.

"Good, Lucius has taken care of it." He murmurs, satisfied.

Draco remains silent.

"You haven't removed it, have you, boy?" The man asks his pudgy belly pushing against his back and it makes Draco sick.

"As if I could; you know that the bloody thing will not come out unless I cut off my bloody hand." Draco snarls, and gasps as the bracelet ignites into an inferno, so hot that he can smell a hint of burning skin.

"That is a warning." He hisses, he grabs Draco's wrist and pulls him to the middle of the room. "You will not snark at me again, boy."

"Fine, just stop the bloody thing." He gasps out, clawing at the bracelet. His eyes tearing at the excruciating pain until the pain is finally lifted and he is left gasping for breath.

"Good," The man says, he lifts his wand up to point at Draco's temple and it only makes him tremble even more. "Remember, if you tell anyone, the spell will know and your father will not be pleased."

"I haven't told anyone," He says, through gritted teeth as the pressure that he had long forgotten pushed against his mental wall. "I haven't!"

"I'm sure you haven't," He acknowledged with a smirk. "Lucius, wouldn't be pleased if you struggled, young Draco."

"S-stop," The pressure is unbearable by now and he can barely think straight, by instinct alone he pushes back against the pressure, pushing against the force. "Please!"

"Don't resist," He whispers, he pushes back against Draco's resistance relentlessly and Draco whimpers at the blinding pain, it was as if tiny knives were stabbing at his brain and his whole body felt achingly numb. Draco stumbles forward at the white, hot pain that shoots from his left arm and straight to his heart, he screams, falling to his knees as his heart stutters, momentarily stopping, before restarting.

"Good," He whispers, pleased, as Draco tries to keep his mental walls intact. Draco feels disorientated and hazy as if he wasn't even in his own body, anymore.

He wants it to end; he wants it all to end.

"What happened during your sixth birthday?" The man suddenly demands, his voice seems distorted and far away. Draco looks up to find him standing near his desk, a quill in his hand. It's all so sudden that Draco's visions blur as he tries to remember.

"Answer me!" He shouts and Draco feels the panic rise inside him at the loud noise.

"I don't...know." And he doesn't—he tries to, he swears he does but he couldn't for the life of him remember his sixth birthday.

He seemed satisfied with the answer, "Good...good…" He writes something down on a parchment before he turns back to him.

Draco is gasping for breath as he walks to his kneeled form. "Lucius will be pleased. You have been such a good specimen."

"Stop..." He gurgled out, whiting out briefly as the man forces his way into his mind again. He grabs fistful of his hair and rolls on to his stomach as his mental walls break again and he screams, he doesn't know for how long. "Fuck—!" Tears streamed down his face as his head throbs at each heartbeat and he flinch at each breath he takes. It feels as if his mind was being shredded piece by piece, one layer after another, it's breaking him—it's tearing him apart.

"You know, each memory holds a piece of your magic," Draco lets out another blood curdling scream as he shoves deeper into his mind and writhes in pain on the floor, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as his toes curls and he grips the carpet in his hand. "Every single memory at my disposal, this is all in the name of science…"

Draco has no idea what he is going on about, too far gone in his mind and pain to understand anything that was going in. He barely registers the blood that is dripping from his ears as he titters in and out of consciousness.

"What about your first broomstick…?"

He feels he should know this but he doesn't and he merely shakes his head as if in a daze, the carpet's rough surface scratching his chin as his muscles twitches every other second.

"Answer me, boy!"

"I don't…" He trails off in a dazed confusion, unsure where he was or who he was. He was sure he would die right there, his mind shattered and his memories ripped from him. He shudders and pushes his head into the carpet, trying to hold his tears as pain wracks through his body.

He just wants it to end.

"That is enough for today," He lets out a satisfied breath, "Yes, far from enough. I'll clean you up in a while."

Draco lies on the floor for the next hour, blood slowly dripping from his ears as he stares blankly at the wall, his mind desperately trying to put itself together as he counts the chips of paint on the wall.

_Draco! Draco! Draco!_

Someone is calling his name, it doesn't matter as his visions swims, the image of the man distorts and—

_Draco! Snap out of it!_

His eyes snaps open and he sees Harry and Blaise in front of him, his whole body shakes and his breathing comes out as short, gasping breaths. His tongue feels heavy and his eyes are wide.

"Merlin, are you alright?" Harry crowds him, touching him everywhere with concerned eyes as he checks him over. "You were screaming, you were screaming so much." Draco sits up, still a bit disoriented by the flashback and what even caused it.

"He's here, he's here," He mumbles, his eyes searching frantically searching around the living room. He pushes Harry away as he tries to stand but Blaise pulls him back down to sit and he struggles, "He's here!"

"No one's here, Draco." Blaise says, softly, "No one but us."

"I shouldn't have asked, it doesn't even matter — I don't need to know, I'm so sorry, Draco." Harry rambles, his hands clenched tightly to his side to stop him from trying to hug him. Draco doesn't even remember what he asked about but he is grateful for it, he doesn't want to relive those memories ever.

"I-It felt so real," He slurs out, he's sure it mere gibberish as he sways, feeling lightheaded, Harry's and Blaise's hands comes from each side to steady him. He clutches at the silver bracelet on his left wrist, tightly. "Sorry, sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Draco," Harry whispers, brokenly, and finally engulfs him in a hug, Draco struggles a bit as panic fills him but Harry only holds him more firmly. "I won't ask that question again. I won't. I didn't know it was a trigger, I-"

"It's okay, I'm fine."

"We're done for today," Blaise whispers, roughly, he looks as shaken as Draco is as he sits back on his heels, "We're done."


	10. you cast a spell on me

**10**

_you cast a spell on me_

* * *

Two weeks later, Harry pulls Draco aside to speak to him, "I want to talk more about the bracelet today, it triggered some strong memories for you and I think it's time. It will help if you face it, you need to accept your past and acknowledge that its over so you can move on."

Draco pales, "Please tell me you aren't serious."

Harry gives him a sympathetic look and Draco hates it, "I'm sorry, it'll help if you talk about it."

Draco twitches at his words, an echo of cruel laughter whispers in his ear and Draco takes a step back, wrapping his arms around himself.

_You're broken, Draco. I should know, I broke you. You broke so beautifully._

"Draco, are you alright?" Harry asks, concern in his face and, for a moment, his face distorts to the cruel face of his father and Draco lets out a shuddering breath, clenching his hands into tight fists.

"Draco?"

Draco stands there, stiffly, staring blankly ahead and, for a moment, Harry fears he's triggered another episode. "Yeah...okay, I think I can do that." The blond finally says, quietly, and Harry sags in relief.

"Are you sure?" He gives him a suspicious look.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Draco offers him a weak smile.

Harry nods his head, worry still in his eyes but he sits in the chair facing the couch and waits until Draco sits next to Blaise to ask, "Okay, how long have you had the bracelet?"

"For as long as I can remember," Draco fiddles with the silver bracelet, "My father gave it to me."

"As a present?" Harry ask.

"As a source of comfort." Draco replies.

"Comfort?" Harry asks, tapping his chin, "That seems odd for a man such as Lucius Malfoy. He doesn't strike me as the sentimental type."

"He isn't," Draco agrees, he wets his lips. He was such a naive child. "That's why I was ecstatic to have it."

"And now?"

"I hate it." He replies, truthfully, and the bracelet warms up a bit.

"If you hate it, then, why not take it off?" Harry asks, his face impassive.

"Its a reminder of my past."

"Is that why you keep it on? Do you cling to your past?"

_You scream so beautifully, my Dragon._

Draco shakes his head, "I don't want to talk about that, yet."

"Okay," Harry says, easily, he shift in his chair and looks down at his notes. "Are you willing to take it off?"

"No," Draco says, firmly. "No more about the bracelet."

"Draco, you'll have to face your past and I think we have to start by taking that bracelet off, it is only reminding—"

"No more!" Draco shouts, his eyes are clenched closed. "No more, I said, I won't take off the bracelet so no more."

"Fine, we'll talk about it another time. Let's talk about your childhood, then," Harry says, calmly, "Just tiny bits, yeah?"

"Alright," He chanced a glance at Blaise who gives him an encouraging smile. "There isn't much really, before Hogwarts, my mother was usually at some auction or gala in France while my Father was out on business."

"So, you were left alone?"

"Well, technically I was left with the house elves." he frowns as he picks at a stray thread on his jeans.

"And did you have OCD then, as well?" Harry asks, writing something down.

"I've had it for as long as I remembered," Draco mumbles, he felt so redundant. "It was mostly a sense of comfort, I thought there was something wrong with me and that's why my parents didn't want anything to do with me."

"What did you do?"

"I used to shower a lot — at least four times a day," Draco sighs, "I thought that my parents didn't want me because I had some sort of disease so I made sure that I was always clean. " He could see Blaise stiffen next to him, his hands clenched tightly.

"How did that make you feel?"

Draco looks up at him, slowly, "Made me feel?"

"Yes, you had to feel resentful or angered, at least." Harry says, gently.

"Why would I, it was my fault they were never there?" Draco looks at him in confusion, "If I had been better—"

"But you did all those things but yet you still were alone," Harry cuts in, "Maybe, it was more your parents than you that was the problem."

"I—" He shakes in head, "I don't know."

"It's okay, Draco," Harry smiles kindly, "You're doing great. I think to help you control your OCD you need to be aware of what you do first."

"Half the time I don't even realize I'm doing it," Draco says with a frown, "It's compulsive, Harry." he adds, dryly causing Harry to roll his eyes in exasperation.

"You do compulsive things to avoid your fears, Draco," Harry says, "By confronting those fears you'll learn not to depend on a ritual to comfort you or, even, numbers."

"But—"

"When Blaise leaves the room, do you realize that you scratch at your arm three times?" Harry asks, "Or that you check each tap before we go on a morning walk because you fear of the flat getting flooded?"

Draco's body shook, "If I don't, he won't come back and we'll drown if I don't."

"Draco, that's irrational," Harry grabs a hold of his trembling hands, "He'll come back even if you don't kiss him three times or any other rituals you do in threes. Once you get over your fear of people leaving you, the better you won't need your compulsive rituals."

"How?" Draco chokes out.

"Do you like musical instruments?" Harry asks, "Playing can help release your compulsion to do repetitive actions and free your mind a bit."

"I can play the piano." Draco mutters.

"Good, Draco, that's good." Harry rubs his thumb over his knuckles in soothing circles and Draco tries to refrain himself from counting each repetition. "AT least, three times a week."

"I'll try but please, my thing with Blaise...I need to do it or I'll go insane."

"You'll be fine, Draco," Harry assures, turning to the Blaise he adds, "You can't give Draco his three kisses in the morning anymore before you leave. It will help him realize that you'll come back even without the ritual."

Draco wretches his hands from his grip and shakes his head, "No! No! No! It'll be bad luck, you can't! He'll die, he'll die!"

"It's okay, Draco," Harry says over his shouts, "You'll get through it, I believe in you. We both do."

* * *

"You're still up?" Harry looks up and over to where Blaise is standing, fully clothed and hugging a cup of tea to his chest.

"Er, yeah," Harry says, scooting over as Blaise walks to sit next to him. "I had some work to finish. You're going out?"

"I have to," He leans back against the couch and closes his eyes. "I have to go to work in a few."

"Odd hour."

"Tell that to Natasha," He snorts, "The witch insist that I come now."

"Something happened at Mungo's?" Harry asks, shuffling the parchments in front of him and signing a few.

"I suppose so, who knows what she's has planned for me," Blaise mutters, looking over at him.

"She isn't very nice," Harry smiles a bit. "But she's good at what she does."

Blaise hums in agreement before setting his cup down on the table and sighs, "I've been meaning to say this but thank you—he's gotten better since you've taken over."

Harry shrugs, "It's nothing really and I am not nearly done."

"Good, we need you." He shuts his eyes and shifts a bit, "I've been really busy lately and it's only going to get worse with the major case we have, I could use all the help I can get."

Harry feels warm at the confession and smiles at him, "Thanks, I'm glad I can be helpful."

Blaise hums again before he's out, breathing lightly next to him and Harry shakes his head in amusement, setting an alarm for two hours with a flick of his wand before he turns back to his work, he needed to get them signed and into Mungo's by the morning and he wasn't nearly done, he bites the end of the quill as he reads over one before signing the appropriate line.

He continues like this for quite some time, the silence is soothing as Blaise sleeps next to him and the fire crackles across from them, keeping them warm. He is so deep in his work, he is startled when he feels Blaise's head loll to the side and fall on his shoulder and he breathes out, trying not to shift when he realize that the man was still asleep.

"Great," He mutters as he pokes Blaise in the side but gets no reaction, he can already feel his shoulder going numb under the weight so he shifts and pulls Blaise's head onto his lap and sighs in relief when the movement doesn't wake him.

Even though he is comfortable now, Harry doesn't continue to work, the parchments he need to sign is set next to him as he watches Blaise sleep. His eyes tracing the lines of his sharp cheekbones and the smooth, caramel skin that makes for a rather pretty picture.

He runs a hand through the man's silky, curly hair in a sort of trance, his stomach twists painfully and his hearts begins to thud loudly in his ear. It's a weird sensation and he doesn't understand any of it but he pushes it to the back of his mind as he continues to watch the man sleep for what seems like hour but was only minutes and he feels happy.

He places a soft kiss on Blaise's temple and closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath of something fresh and earthy and entirely Blaise. He allows the feelings to wash over him and it leaves him breathless as he pulls away, shivering as Blaise sleeps on, unaware of the going on inside of Harry.

Harry groans, then, and throws his head back against the couch, his hands still tangled in the tresses of Blaise's hair but he doesn't want to let go. He stares up at the ceiling, blankly, and wills his heart to stop pounding so fiercely, "Shit, what am I doing?"


	11. don't fall in love, Harry

**11**

_don't fall in love, Harry _

* * *

The alarm chimes at exactly two A.M and Harry is almost reluctant to wake Blaise up but he does, shaking his shoulder gently until Blaise stirs, groaning a little in dismay before his hands goes up to scratch his hair and he lets out a yawn. Harry blushes a bit when the man opens his eyes blearily to look up at him.

_He isn't mine, _Harry reminds himself firmly as he plants a strained smile on his face.

"It's two o'clock; you have...err...work to go to, yeah?" Harry says, nervously, as Blaise slowly sits up and stretches. Harry averts his gaze, clearing his throat as he picks up his notes and try to ignore Blaise who is tying his dragon hide boots as butterflies wages war in his stomach.

"I slept in your lap," Blaise states, he doesn't look up at Harry as he fixes his shoes. Harry bites his bottom lip. "Why did I sleep in your lap?"

"You didn't look too comfortable on the couch…" Harry murmurs, weakly, his fingers trembles around the parchment and he only wish the man would leave quicker. "I thought you would be more comfortable that way, nothing else."

"You shouldn't have done that," Blaise says, softly, and Harry winces at the soft reprimand. "It's unprofessional."

"I know," His throat feels tight - lodged with something indescribable and he finds it hard to speak.

Blaise stands to his feet and looks at him, long and hard, causing Harry to shift uncomfortably in his seat and look away, trying desperately to concentrate on his notes and finish signing these these documents before the sun is able to rise.

"That look in your eyes," Blaise says, softly, he takes a step forward but Harry doesn't look up, too afraid to see the expression on the man's face. "Get rid of it, too."

Harry blinks, unsure of what he meant. "What?"

"That lovesick look you have," Blaise points out, softly, and Harry stiffens, the crackling of the fire seeming too loud now in the utter silence as Blaise continues to stare down at him and he feels so tiny, so insignificant. "Get rid of it."

"Blaise, what? No! I—"

"Don't. Harry," He cuts him off, softly, and Harry stills, his eyes wide as he looks at him. Blaise sighs, "You are Draco's Mind Healer, we hired you to do a job and nothing else, Harry. He trusts you and I do, too. Don't ruin it. Don't allow your personal feelings to obscure you from doing your job.."

"I'm not," Harry whispers, he hates the tears that are stinging at his eyes. Why? Why does his chest hurts so much. "I'm not, Blaise, you have to believe me."

"Not for me," Blaise says, he turns away from Harry. "But for Draco, he's already insecure – he doesn't need this, as well. He trust you enough with his past and emotions, so don't give him a reason to distrust you."

_They aren't mine, they aren't mine_ the nasty voice in his head whispers and the words are both haunting and forceful.

"I'm not, I'm not." He chants, his hands cover his face, trying to hide from his tears. It was like pieces of his heart were being chipped away by each word Blaise says and it hurts, it hurts a damn lot. "I'm not."

"Don't fall in love, Harry," Blaise whispers, his voice is begging now, a soft plea echoing in the silent living room. "Please."

It's those words that finally breaks Harry's heart.


	12. I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me

**12**

_i'm so dizzy, don't know what's hit me._

* * *

Harry finds out soon enough, in the next two months, that it is easier to fall in love than fall out of it. It only gets harder by the mere fact that Blaise acts completely normally around him as if he doesn't know Harry has the biggest crush for him but even worse is Draco who is oblivious to it all. It makes him both sad and jealous when he sees the two together.

_They are in a relationship, Harry Potter, _He thinks sternly as he sits at the table with a cup of tea._ I am their Mind Healer, nothing more._

The thought hurts more than it should.

"What day is it?" Blaise shatters his train of thought as he rushes into the kitchen, he looks haggard in his deep, purple robes as he walks to the coffee machine that Harry had brought them a couple of weeks ago. Blaise tinkers with it a bit, making frustrated noises, "Blasted muggle device."

He gives Harry a hopeless look over his shoulder who merely gives him an shaky smile in return; those darned butterflies are at it again in his stomach. "Well, good morning to you, too."

"What day is it?" Blaise asks, again, as he finally gets the blasted thing to start and thrums his fingers to a tuneless beat against the counter.

"Third of November," Harry replies he looks him over. "You look stressed out."

"You would be, as well, if you were being overworked." Blaise growls, he wills the coffee to be made faster so he could leave. "For Merlin's sake, go faster! I have a meeting in ten minutes!" Harry raises an eyebrow and his mouth twitches as Blaise turns to him in frustration, "Why do we use this blasted thing? It's slow."

"It makes better coffee than magic," Harry replies, amused. He leans back and sighs, happily, "The joys of being the Head Mind Healer — you choose your own schedule."

"Freaking fantastic," Blaise shoots back, sarcastically. "Because I'll just, y'know, change my career so my life can be as perfect as yours."

"And irritable," Harry notes, brightly. "You're just _spiffy _today, aren't you?"

"Potter, I am so close to emasculating you."

"Would you like breakfast?"

"I am on a time schedule," Blaise sighs, rubbing his eyes, tiredly. "I don't have time for breakfast."

"You don't have time for a lot of things, lately," Harry says, he leans forward with a slight frown on his face. "Draco went to sleep without you last night and you missed his session this week...again."

"I came in late."

"I figured," Harry says, he drummed his fingers on the table. "He hasn't seen you for more than a minute in three weeks, Blaise."

"You were the one who said he needs to see less of me." Blaise accuses.

"I didn't say that," Harry frowns, "And you bloody well know that."

"I know," Blaise sighs, squeezing his eyes shut in remorse as his shoulders sag. "I've been neglectful lately and...I'll make it up when everything gets back to normal."

"If they get back to normal." Harry says, reproachfully.

"Look, I'm attempting to balance here," Blaise turns to him with a frown. "I would much rather be here with Draco than constantly at St Mungo's."

"I understand that but...if you had to choose what would it be—Draco or your career?"

"Draco, of course," Blaise says, tightly, as the coffee machine finally dings and he pulls a mug from the cabinet. The jealousy Harry has become accustomed to shoots through to his heart, leaving his chest to feel heavy and caged, "I love him more than anything in this world."

"Your actions says otherwise."

Blaise ignores him, allowing the silence to come over them as he drinks his coffee. Harry sneaks glances at him when he isn't looking; he hasn't seen much of Blaise either lately.

"I have to go," Blaise announces a few minutes later, he places the mug in the sink just as Draco enters the kitchen. He makes brief eye contact with him before he turns away and apparate.

Draco stands there for a moment, his eyes trained to the spot where his boyfriend was with an odd expression on his face.

* * *

"This is the third case this week," Granger sighs next to Blaise as she writes on a piece of parchment next to her. "I don't understand..."

"What isn't there to understand?" Blaise asks, coldly, as he skims over the parchment. He flicks his wand and watches as it floats away, "We have had five young male in the last seven days come in with the same symptoms; in pain, their magical cores depleted and partially insane."

"Yes, I know that…" Granger frowns at him, "but there is no such curse that can do that...I don't understand, it's as if…."

"They've been turned into squibs?" Blaise finishes for her and she pales. "That is impossible; to take away a person's magical core is against nature."

"But what if—"

"It isn't." Blaise cuts in.

"I am merely saying it's a possibility…" Granger frowns at him.

"It's only a possibility if you're an idiot."

"Why are you so rude?" Granger finally snaps back at him, "You're so polite and kind to everyone else...but me...what have I done to you?"

"People like you irk me, Granger." He says, softly, turning away from her.

"Excuse me?" She hisses in anger, taking a step forward. "Why? Because I'm a _muggle born_ that can keep up with you? That I have the same skills as you? Get off your high horse, Zabini, just because you're a pureblood doesn't make you superior...the war should have taught you that lesson because…"

"No…" Blaise cuts in her tyrant with a sharp tone that leaves her startled. "It's because people like _you _don't see how fucked up the world really is."

Her stunned silence gives him an odd, sick pleasure that curls deeply inside him as he walks away.

* * *

"Do you think Blaise resents me?" Draco asks, aloud, it was late evening and they were both lounging in front of the fire in the living room. Harry flat on his stomach as he reads a Qudditch magazine and Draco tries to read his Potions notes but each time the clock chimes a new hour, his mind strays to his boyfriend.

Harry looks up at him in confusion, "Why would he?"

"He's been working an awful lot lately," Draco replies with a frown. "He's always at Mungo's, sometimes, I wake with the bed cold and…"

"Draco," Harry gets up and moves forward to sit next to him, he gently grabs Draco's in his. "Yes, he's been busy with things at Mungo's but that doesn't mean he doesn't care for you because he does."

Draco leans closer to him, playing with Harry's fingers, something inside Harry jolts at the action. "I just wish he would spend a little more time at home."

"He will once he has a chance."

"I feel like I don't mean anything to him anymore."

"No, Draco, you mean the world to him," Harry says, sincerely.

"Yeah," He whispers, he scoots closer to Harry. "I suppose."

"No, seriously," Harry grabs his shoulders and Draco looks at him in confusion. "Blaise wants _you._" Draco winces in pain when Harry's fingers dig painfully into the skin of his shoulder.

"Harry?"

Harry shakes his head, giving him a sad smile, he pulls back and his hands fall to his side. "Sorry, it's nothing."

Draco shrugs, laying his head on his shoulder and Harry stiffens at the contact, "We're friends, right?"

"Yeah, Draco, we're friends." Harry breathes out, looking away from the blond.

"Good," Draco whispers, he swallows thickly. "I need someone to trust. You...I feel normal when I'm with you."

"I'll always be right here, Draco," Harry whispers, his vision blurs momentarily by the tears that are gathering. "I'll always be by your side."

"Good, I need you, Harry." Draco clenches tightly at his shirt and Harry nods.

Harry merely wraps his arms around him.

"I'm pathetic, I can't even spend one day without him."

Anger sparks through Harry and he says, "Stop thinking like that." He yanks sharply at Draco's hair without a second thought and the blond hiss at the pain.

"Jerk," Draco whispers, pushing closer and closing his mouth on Harry's neck, biting down hard into the skin.

Harry's whole body tense at the pain, the instinct to get away shudders through him, but he clings to Draco, instead, and doesn't move. His hand clenches tightly on Draco's knee and he hugs him harder, holding his breath.

"You bit me." Harry notes.

"I did." Draco agrees with a tiny smirk and it almost feels like they were rivals at Hogwarts again and Harry lets out a short laugh.

"Rabid git."

"Sod off."

They sit quiet for a minute after that. The wet skin on Harry's neck tingles every time Draco takes a breath.

"He's not coming home tonight, is he?" Draco asks, softly, and he closes his eyes tightly. His skin crawls at the hand on his knee but he ignores it; Harry's touch was both terrifying and comforting.

"I'm sorry." Harry offers.

"Stay here with me tonight," Draco whispers into Harry's shoulder, he feels Harry close his eyes when his eyelashes brushes his cheek. "Please."

Harry knows he shouldn't, he knows this will only complicate everything - but the whirlwind of chaotic, burning emotions that settles deeply inside him burns his rationality to ashes and he's so dizzy, he's left breathless. He shouldn't, he couldn't -

"Alright."

- But he does, anyway.


	13. would you take my breath away?

**13**

_would you take my breath away?_

* * *

Harry wakes up the next day to the blinding light that pierces through the drapes. He groans rolling over, burying his head into the pillow he finds and breathes in the nice scent of something earthy and fresh, he nuzzles the pillow, feeling content as the fog of sleep lifts from his mind and he begins to think clearly. He jolts his head up sharply as the memories of last night assaults him and he groans.

"Draco?" Harry calls out, tentatively, realizing the blond wasn't next to him. He can hear the distinct sound of water running. He clutches his stomach as it twist painfully and he wonders if this is what guilt feels like. "Shit."

The guilt that eats at his very soul leaves a putrid and acidic taste in his mouth. He is ashamed of his actions and the influence his emotions have on him. He has a gigantic mess in his hand and he's stumbling, trying desperately to make everything right. "Stupid, so stupid." He berates himself as he slides out of the bed and stretches before he walks to where he thinks the water is coming from.

"Draco?" he calls out again as he walks to the bathroom, a deep sense of worry gnawing at him when the blond doesn't respond. "Are you alright?"

"Draco, about last-" He trails off as he enters the bathroom to find it in total disarray. Draco was leaning heavily on the sink, sobbing incoherently as he scrubbed his left arm, the water overflowing to the tiled floor with soap suds and tinged red with blood.

Harry curses as he moves forward quickly, turning off the tap and pulling Draco in his arms, "Draco, stop!" His eyes burn with tears as the blond struggles in his grasp, mumbling under his breath.

"Clean...need to get clean...or h-he will leave me..."

"Draco," Harry wraps his arms around him, desperately. "We need to get you cleaned up." His voice sounds rough and unused even to his own ears.

He feels sick at the amount of damage Draco has done to his left forearm where a distorted dark mark mocks him. The blood flowing like rivulet out of the deep wound makes him nauseous and he takes deep breaths through his mouth. The stench of metallic, hours old blood thick in the air. "We need Essence of Dittany; do you have any, Draco?"

Draco is silent, his eyes staring blankly at him and Harry shakes him, gently, "Draco, please! This is a deep wound, you nearly clawed out the mark and shredded your arm - you can bleed out from this." His voice chokes at that but he holds his composure no matter how much he wants to curl in a ball and cry. "Draco!" He calls out as blood drips to the ground and stains his socks.

"The cabinet under the sink," Draco chokes out.

Harry nods, curtly; he ignores the tears that are falling rapidly down his cheeks and blurring his vision as he opens the cabinet and pulls out a white box. He leads Draco out of the bathroom, his steps measured as he wills his knees not to buckle as he coax Draco to sit on the edge of the bed before he kneels in front of him.

He hisses as he examines the arm before he opens the box, grabbing the Essence and dropping a few on the wound and watches as the skin knits itself back together. Draco wince but doesn't say anything as Harry tends to his wound, cleaning the excess blood, tenderly, before wrapping it with white gauze.

"It'll be sore for a few days so try not to bother it," Harry looks at him with sad, green eyes, "How long were you in the bathroom, Draco?"

"E-eight hours, thirteen minutes and seven seconds." Draco tells him, automatically. He trembles, his body vibrating as Harry places a hand on his knee.

Harry cast a wandless tempus charm and curses when he sees it's already three in the afternoon, he slept the whole day away.

"This is my fault," Harry lays his head on Draco's knee, "I should have left, I freaked you out. I'm sorry, Draco, I'm sorry."

"No, no, no," Draco mutters, tangling his head in the messy, black hair. "I...Blaise didn't come home - I freaked myself out."

Harry closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, wiping away his tears and regaining his composure as he says, "I don't want you doing that anymore - as your Healer and your friend, when you have a compulsion like that again come to me or distract yourself from it by doing your potions or reading. We need to add more activities to your day, too."

Draco merely nods.

"Why did you feel you had to do that, Draco?

"I'm tainted, Harry," Draco whispers,

"No, you're not," Harry strokes Draco's arm, comfortingly, "You've atoned for your sins, Draco, you don't need to punish yourself."

"So, why isn't he here?" Harry swallows thickly - he knows already who he was.

"He wants to be."

Draco looks at him, his gray eyes now red but clear and something inside Harry aches. Draco smells of soap and pine trees, it fills Harry's scenes and he shudders. "Will you stay tonight?"

"If you want me to." Harry whispers.

"I do."

"Okay."

Draco lifts a hand to stroke a thumb across his cheek and Harry jolts at the contact; he looks up at Draco in confusion, "Draco?"

Draco leans towards him until their foreheads are pressed against each others and their breathing mingles - they are so close, now, that Harry can see the specks of blue in Draco's gray eyes. Harry is captivated, he can't look away and and, for a brief moment, a tingling sensation starts from his chest and spreads through his body like a warm fire as Draco's thumb brushes against his lips and he shivers at the intense sensation.

"Harry…" Draco whispers, his cool breath brushes like a gentle touch against his lips and it would be so easy to just close the gap between them. Harry's eyes flutters shut and he can feel Draco's breath hitch. "I...I want to kiss you."

Harry pulls away.

* * *

"I want to cut my hours," Blaise says as he rinse his hand in the basin, they had just finished a operation and he figured this would be the best time to ask. Natasha stood next to him and barely acknowledged his words as she shook her hands of the excess water and turned away from him.

"Denied." Natasha says, crisply.

"Natasha, I barely have time to go home and shower," Blaise says with a growl. "For the last 48 hours, I've been sleeping in the spare room. It's cooled down for a bit and all I ask is half of my hours."

"You work what Granger work," Natasha says, simply "You two are a team."

Blaise grits his teeth, "You know that insane woman wouldn't lessen her hours for the world."

"The insane woman is right here," Granger snaps, "And I quite like my hours, thank you."

"There, you have your answer, Zabini." Natasha says, tersely. "Now, please, go stitch up Patient 338 and, maybe, I will consider letting go early." He hopes so. Maybe, he can cuddle up with Draco for a few hours before Natasha calls him in again.

"This is all your fault." Blaise growls at Granger.

She huffs and fully turns to him, "I like my hours!"

"Because you're a monster," Blaise says, he pauses and peers at her closely. "Are you wearing makeup?"

Granger lights up, a smile tugging on her red lips. "Well, yes...do you like it?"

"Not particularly, no," Blaise says, disinterestedly, turning away from her. "The color is horrid on you."

Granger huffs, angrily.

"How about we talk about this over dinner," Granger says, after a moment, and he turns to her, calmly. "I'm sure we can come up with some sort of compromise."

"How about...no."

* * *

Blaise is exhausted when he reaches home, it's already dark out and the house is dark except for the small fire in the living room, illuminating the room with a warm glow. it almost feels foreign being home, as if it isn't his own anymore. He hates Granger for wanting to work so much and Natasha, as well, for allowing it. This much work is unhealthy.

He trudges up the stairs with weary muscles, the wood creaking under his feet, his eyes were already heavy lidded and he was ready to curl up next to Draco and catch some sleep before his next 48 hour shift. He pushes the door to their bedroom slightly and smiles at the sight of the fall and rise of his boyfriend's chest. He kicks off his boots and slid off his robes, he walks to the bed and freeze when he spots a head of messy, raven hair and he takes a step back.

There curled up in Harry Potter's arms was his boyfriend and he just stares blankly at the sight.

He knows he should feel something – rage, pain, _anything._

But he doesn't. He just feels numb.

So achingly numb.


	14. you reap what you sow

**14**

_you reap what you sow_

* * *

Harry wakes the next morning to find his arms wrapped tightly around a sleeping Draco, they were in the center of the bed. He shifts, yawning before he rolls over only to freeze as he catches sight of Blaise, sitting on a lounge chair, sipping from a glass as he watches the two of them sleep.

"Good morning," Blaise says, calmly. He stands and walks towards the open bedroom door without another glance at Harry, "I need to talk to you."

"Shit!" Harry gasps, the situation finally hitting him fully as he swiftly untangles himself from Draco and stands on shaky legs, he follows the man quietly, his head bowed like a chastised child as they descend downstairs and into the living room. Blaise was going to kill him. "I'm sorry...he...I…" Harry tries to defend himself but his tongue feels too big for his mouth and his chest constricts as Blaise turns to him.

"My boyfriend was in your arms, Potter," Blaise gives him a sharp smile that brings chills down his spine. "There is nothing, short of killing yourself that can make up for that."

"Blaise...shit, I'm sorry…" He swept his hand through his hair in agitation. "I didn't mean to…I don't know what to say." All of the fight suddenly rushes out of him with a gust of air and he feels defeated. "I'm sorry."

Blaise is silent, sipping on his drink passively as he looks at him; it unnerves Harry to no end. This wasn't' the usual quiet the man exuded-no, this was a deadly silent indicating to Harry that he wouldn't live to tell the tale if he said the wrong thing.

"Please, say something," Harry pleads, softly, "Hit me, yell, scream just don't -"

"I could have your license revoked," Blaise says, in that smooth, calm tone that made Harry's toes curl. "I could destroy your life and leave you with nothing."

"Are you drunk, right now?" Harry asks, hesitantly. He could smell the faint scent of alcohol in the air.

"Maybe...I've had a couple of glasses," Blaise shrugs, carelessly. He downs the liquid that Harry suspects to be firewhisky before placing the glass gingerly on the coffee table. "Or five."

Harry sighs, rubbing his forehead so he could think. "Shit, let me go make you some tea or…"

"No need," Blaise say, calmly, he takes a step forward. "Stay." He narrows his eyes and Harry flinches at the intense look, "I told you, Harry, I told you_ do not_ get emotionally involved."

Harry swallows thickly, "I'm sorry."

"I'm pissed, Harry," Blaise says, quietly, "All I want to do now is flay you alive for touching what is mine."

"Draco was lonely," Harry hiss in his defense, but it was inevitable this would happen. Blaise was bound to find out. "He didn't want to sleep alone again."

"Then, you should've gotten _me,_" Blaise voice is but a mere whisper but Harry desperately wished he was screaming. There is coldness in his voice that made Harry tremble with fear. "I'm his boyfriend, not you."

The truth thrown in his face hurts worse than it probably should, he was in too deep. He was drowning in the depths of his emotions for these two men and, yet, he never felt more alive than when he was with them.

"You're never here." He weakly tries again.

"So, now, this is my fault?" Blaise's eyes turns to slits of icy, vengeful anger.

"I didn't – look, Blaise, Draco is my friend and I will comfort him when he needs it." Harry says, bravely, "I care for Draco and – "

"You're his Healer," Blaise cuts him off, he flexes his fingers and Harry watches the movement with anxious eyes. "First and foremost, and that is all you should be worried about."

"Blaise, please..." Harry whispers as Blaise turns away from him. "Don't, I can't bear this...hit me, fight me...just don't—."

"Disappear," Blaise says his voice ragged with raw emotions. "I don't ever want to see you again."

Harry's eyes burns with tears as he desperately tries to ignore the shredding of his heart in his chest, "Please, Blaise, don't..." A whimper threatens to come out as Blaise steps forward and he's fucked everything up. "I..."

"Get out, Harry." Blaise says, coldly, "You're suffocating me."

Harry shakes his head, stubbornly, "I refuse._ I refuse_."

"Fine. If you won't leave, then, I will -"

"No," Harry buries his face in his hands, shaking his head. "Stop, stop, this hurts too much."

Blaise shakes his head, taking a step back, his hands clenched into tight fist. "You're not sorry, at all – you want him, you want _me_."

"Is that so wrong?!" He shouts, hysterically, he takes in a deep breath as Blaise looks at him with a vacant look. "Is it so wrong to like you both? I - I didn't plan for it, I would never want to break what you have with Draco but I don't regret this, I want you both...so bad."

"You want us to be together?" Blaise whispers. "Like a triad."

"More than anything." Harry whispers, bowing his head

"That will never happen," Blaise says, coldly and the words cut Harry so deeply he staggers back at the sheer pain the words causes. He sinks to his knees, no longer able to hold his own weight. "That can _never_ happen."

"Don't say that." Harry hiss angrily, shaking. His knees burned and he could barely hold his own weight.

"Do you not understand how this is affecting Draco," Blaise says, angrily, "You're being selfish and it's going to hurt Draco."

"I've messed up, I know but..."

"You just don't _get_ it," Blaise shakes his head before he sighs, "I need to figure some thing out, I'm leaving for a while…"

"No! I didn't mean anything of it…" Harry says, his breath picking up as Blaise took another step back, "I'm sorry, Blaise, please…"

"Harry, I just need time to think," He lets out a shuddering breath, "I need some time to myself."

Harry shakes his head, frantically, "It isn't like that...I mean…"

"Draco deserves someone that can give him the attention he needs," Blaise spoke quietly, almost to himself, and Harry bites his lips from screaming out all the hurt he felt at that moment. "I—I need time to think."

"I'm sorry, Blaise…" Harry says, again, he doesn't hide the tears, anymore, allowing them to flow down his face. "I'm so sorry."

Blaise shuts his eyes in pain and Harry lets out a ragged breath, "Take care of him."

"What?"

Blaise sighs, "I'll be gone for a while, just to think."

Harry looks on panicked as Blaise turns and begins to walk away, Harry crawls forward. "Where...where are you going?"

"Out," Blaise looks up to the ceiling, "Just for a bit."

"Don't do this…" Harry scrambles to his feet, a lump forming in his throat. "Draco...he needs you…"

"He apparently needs you, too." Blaise says, back. "I just don't think I'm willing to share."

Harry chokes on air as he apparate with a sharp pop and he stands there, staring blankly at the spot he was in - how was he going to explain this to Draco?

* * *

"You tell him?" Harry says, his eyes were puffy and red from all the crying he had done this morning. When he finally was able to pull himself together, he instantly called Pansy and explained the situation, it was decided they would tell Draco the news of Blaise departure together.

"Me?!" Pansy hisses, taking a step back. "I'm only here for moral support; I refuse to take on Draco's wrath on my own."

Harry wrings his hands nervously peeking into the living room to find Draco sitting as still and as silent as he had left him. "I'm so scared right now."

"As you should be, Potter," Pansy huffs and pokes his chest. "This is your entire bloody fault."

"I didn't do anything!" Harry hiss back with a glare. "I was leaving."

"But you stayed, instead!"

"He insisted!"

"If he insisted you suck his cock, would you?"

"Parkinson, you are not helping!" Harry says, placing his head in his hands. "I didn't call you over for you to be asking me such mundane question."

"Questions you refuse to answer," Pansy looks at him, slyly. "You totally have a crush on Draco."

"I don't," Harry protests and swats her hand away when she tries to coo at him. "Piss off. This is serious."

"For the record, I think it's every witch's wet dream to see you three together."

"Blaise doesn't want a triad," Harry mutters, miserably, the words of the man were haunting in his mind. His chest feels uncomfortably tights and he presses a hand against it. "So, piss off."

"Blaise didn't want Draco at first, either," Pansy rebukes, a smug smile on her face. "But here we are, four years later. He's a noble man, that Blaise."

"That's different, Parkinson." Harry says, peaking at Draco again. His shoulders slumped in depression, "He doesn't _want_ me." His bottom lips trembles at the confession as tears well up in his eyes again.

Pansy sighs, dramatically, "Alright, Potter, no more moping." He lets out a surprised noise when she turns him around, wipes away his tears with a swipe of her thumbs and pats his face, gently, "How about we just tell him?" She turns him around again and pushes him forward causing him to stumble. "Come on, you lug."

"I can walk for myself." Harry grumbles as the walk into the living room and stand in front of Draco. Harry clenched his hands behind him, hoping to resist the urge to pulling the blond to his side and hug him tightly.

He's done enough damage.

"Okay, you two, what is going on?" Draco frowns at him, "Where is Blaise?"

"Err...you see...Blaise left." Harry looks at Pansy, hesitantly, unsure to how he should phrase it.

Draco raises a skeptical eyebrow, "Left as in gone to work?"

"Not exactly," Harry shifts, uncomfortably, "He saw us in bed this morning and he left."

Pansy palms her face, "You're disgustingly tactless, Potter."

Draco is stiff, his face expressionless. "So, he left?"

Pansy and Harry shares a glance, "Yes."

"He...broke up...with me?"

"No!" Harry assures, hurriedly. "No, he is very much your boyfriend and it's all my fault, I was stupid and -"

"I see."

"But he'll be back, Draco," Harry says, quickly, "It isn't like he's gone forever or dead."

"Shut up, Potter." Pansy hisses.

"No, it's fine." Draco stands and they watch him with wary and worried eyes. "I understand."

He turns and walks to the doorway and Harry could only watch with a gaping mouth as he passes a very expensive look vase near the doorway, pauses for a moment before he tips it over with a soft touch of his finger, the vase sways back and forth before it finally tumbles and shatters to the ground, leaving Harry dumbfounded.

"What the hell just happened?" Harry chokes out as Draco's footsteps are heard walking up the stairs.

Pansy sighs, "That was Draco's famous silent tantrum."

"So…" He pauses to wince when he hears another crash upstairs. "He's just going to go around breaking things until Blaise comes back."

"Yes," Pansy says with a sad, admiring smile, "Worked every time in Hogwarts when he wanted something, very passive aggressive."

"Well, then." Harry mutters as another crash resounds loudly in the house, Harry thinks it's glass this time. He imagines it broke as effortlessly as his heart did.


	15. It's a dangerous game we're playing

**15**

_It's a dangerous game we're playing_

* * *

"I quit," Blaise says, as they finish up the third snake bitten patient that day. Natasha pauses, mid step, in shock at his words as Granger chokes on air.

"Excuse me?" Natasha asks, quietly, turning to him slowly.

He should feel fearful or regretful but he isn't, he thought long and hard about this the last week and he knew this was the right decision for both his relationship and Draco. He misses the blond, craves him but he knows he wouldn't see him unless he had a solution and he did.

"I quit." Blaise repeats just as coldly. "You don't need me, you said it yourself - you could run this hospital on your own, I believe you said."

"You can't quit!" Granger interjects in panic.

Blaise raises an eyebrow at her but doesn't answer.

"You can't quit," Natasha repeats, quietly, "I know I've been working you both hard but it's the demand, there isn't enough Healers to -"

"Then, find some," Blaise says, coldly, "This job is messing up my relationship and - "

"I'll half your hours," Natasha cuts in, desperately. "Forty-two hours a week, Monday through Friday."

Granger looks at him anxiously waiting for his answer, he ignores her.

"I want forty hours a week, I come in anytime I want from Monday through Friday and no weekend fire calls." Blaise says firmly, crossing his arms.

"That's asking for an awful lot, Blaise," Natasha says, hesitantly, "I don't think Granger would be agreeable to this -"

"Then, no deal," Blaise says, turning around and walks away. "It was a pleasure working with you."

"You'll regret this, Blaise!" Natasha sounds angry but he doesn't care, Draco was more important than any career he had.

"No, I won't." He calls back as he hears her angry footsteps walk the other way.

"Wait!" Granger stops him and he turns to her with curious eyes. "I'll agree to those hours under one condition."

"One?"

"Yes," She whispers, coyly, and Blaise's stomach twists violently.

"No, Granger." Blaise says, curtly and she looks at him in surprise.

"I haven't even said anything!"

"You've harbored a crush - almost bordering on obsession - for me for the last four years," Blaise begins, coldly, causing her to blush. "There is nothing that will come out of your mouth that will be reasonable or possible."

He turns around, once more, as he hears her take in a sharp breath.

"My condition was for you to be nicer to me," She calls out and he turns suspicious eyes towards her. "That's all."

"There's a catch."

"There isn't," Granger chuckles, "You're very smart, Blaise, and I enjoy your company."

"And you wish to turn me into a friend?" Blaise scoffs in disbelief, "I would think you would feel threatened."

"I thought so, too," Granger admits, softly, "But you ignite a fire in me that no one else has ever done before. You challenged me for the first time in my life - no man has ever done that - and I love the thrill of it."

"If you want a thrill, Granger, take a hit of Ecstasy." Blaise says, dully.

Granger makes a noise of frustration, "There it is, that condescending tone. Like I am not worthy of your attention and admiration, like I'm not smart enough. _I hate it." _She takes a step forward, running her hand over his arm - he pushes her away. "I want to prove to you that I am worthy of your attention, too."

Blaise rolls his eyes, "I only have attention for one person and it's certainly isn't you."

"I just want to be friends."

"And what? No strings attached?" He asks, mockingly.

"None at all," She takes a hesitant step forward, her face serious "I just want to be your friend and, if you agree, I will allow the change in our hours."

"I'm not an idiot, Granger, you want more from me." Blaise mutters and Granger huffs, she walks closer to him until he can see her determined, brown eyes looking up at him.

She touches his left hand, stroking the knuckle of his index finger before he pulls it out of her reach and narrows his eyes, dangerously. She smiles at him, innocently, "I just want to be friends."

Blaise scoffs, "You're lying, you want more than that. You always have. Everything is knowledge to you and I'm just another book to be read."

"Don't think so low of me, Blaise," She says with a frown, "I have restraints and a silly crush would never disable me so much."

"Don't be foolish," Blaise whispers as she comes closer. "I know you harbor intense feelings for me."

"I won't let that get in the way," Granger says, she takes another step forward and Blaise can practically smell the suffocating scent of lavender on her neck. "I merely want a professional friendship with you."

He grabs her jaw in his hand, tightly, and meets her frightened, brown eyes with his own dark ones; his voice but a soft, chilling tone that brings terror down her spine, "If you think you have a chance with me, then you are sadly mistaken. I don't know what game you're playing and I don't really care but if you hurt what's mine, _I will destroy you. _Now," he takes in a calming breath as she trembles in his grasp, "I will treat you differently but you _will_ allow those hours and nothing else, do you understand?"

"Perfectly." She chokes out and Blaise releases her, watching as she sinks to the ground in shock and fear.

* * *

"What's wrong, Draco?"

"Nothing." Draco's voice was petulant.

"You have to tell me what's wrong, so, I can fix it."

"Can't fix this. Can't fix me. I'm too broken, too sick, and too _wrong_."

"Draco, please."

"No, Harry, I don't _want_ a session."

"I know it's been a week since…" He trails off, sighing tiredly as he looks at the stiff, furious form of Draco. "He'll come back."

"No, he won't, you drove him away," Draco curls into himself, hiding his face in the crook of his arm. "You made the best thing in my life disappear."

Harry should be used to the pain in his chest by now; the constant shredding of his heart has been relentless and harsh this past week. "I'm sorry, Draco."

"A-and it's my fault, too." He sniffles, his voice a quiet whisper, "I'm too much trouble - I won't have sex with him, I can't say I love you, I count and whine and - I'm fucked up, Harry!" He looks up to glare at him, hatefully, "And _you_, you made him realize it. _I hate you_."

"I'm sorry." Harry chokes out, his throat is lodge with something hideous and large, suffocating him. Guilt, he suppose.

"I hate you!" Draco hiss in anger, "Just go away!"

Harry swallows thickly, his eyes shutting close, there it was again - the churning of his stomach as another piece of his heart was chewed viciously, mercilessly. Maybe, he was a masochist. "I know you do, but you're my friend, Draco, and I refuse to leave your side."

"Leave me alone!" He shouts.

"No," Harry says, firmly, "I made a promise and I plan to keep it. I will _not_ leave you."

"I hate you, I hate you, I _hate_ you," He sobs, each words is like a dagger twisted into Harry's heart and he hates himself, too. He does. He does.

"I'm sorry, Draco." Harry whispers. "I'm so sorry."

"I want boo bear!" Draco screams, Harry winces at the guttural and raw emotion that exudes from the blond's voice. "I want boo bear...want...I want..." He whimpers, his whole form shaking and Harry hasn't seen him like this since the first day he was here, it breaks his heart.

"I know," Harry says, softly, he doesn't realize he's crying, too, until a tears hits his hand and he sniffles, "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry." His voice is broken, foreign to his own ears and the guilt finally swallows him whole and he's trapped - drowning in the dark abyss of his desire and guilt but he's still alive. So, so alive.


	16. sometimes, love hurts instead

**16**

_Sometimes, love hurts instead_

* * *

"Shit," Blaise murmurs, once the Floo flares green and Pansy walks out in all her glory.

"Of course, I would find you in the Penthouse, how did you manage that with your harpy of a mother?" Pansy huffs, once she looks him over. "You gorgeous thing, what have you done to yourself?"

"Go away," Blaise moans, turning away from her. "Just go away."

"How does long distance work here?" Pansy asks, "Do you just Floo to work - did you even go in to work this week?"

"Pansy, leave me alone." Blaise growls.

"You look like shit, my dear." Pansy frowns, he tugs him up into a sitting position and he lets out a whine. "This will _not_ do for the Witches Weekly, not at all."

"You're a horrible person," Blaise mumbles, "I just wanted some time alone."

"Oh, Blaise," Pansy sighs, taking his glass of a mixture of different alcohols and places it on the coffee table. "Hiding here won't help."

"This is punishment for me," Blaise says, softly, "I've neglected him for a day and he's already in someone's else's arms."

"Blaise, you're being an idiot about all of this." Pansy says, "He was lonely and you've been working extra hard these past months with that weird case you're always rattling about but I never listen to."

"Thanks, you're such a wonderful friend." Blaise replies, sarcastically.

"I know I am, sweetie, but we're not here to talk about me," Pansy says, patting his arm. "Draco is quite frankly a mess… I've been over there more for the past week and he is just inconsolable."

"Silent tantrum?"

"It's beyond even that."

Blaise is silent, half of him is still punishing himself from what happened a week ago and the other, bigger part of him is pleased that Draco is miserable without him.

He's a horrible person.

"He just wants you," Pansy goes on, "Just go talk to him...you two have been through so much to just throw it away."

"Our relationship isn't perfect, Pans," Blaise lets out a shaky breath, "It's filled with issues that we have to fix and I don't think I can handle this one-sided love-"

"If you think for one minute that Draco doesn't love you, then, you're _really_ an idiot." Pansy says, forcefully. "He may not say it but he does, he truly does."

"I don't know that...I never felt this way for anyone, the closest was that crush I had with the Weaslette in sixth year."

Pansy sticks out her tongue in disgust, "Please, don't compare your precious love for Draco with that garbage."

"I just...he's so special to me…" Blaise rest his hands in his head. "I don't want him to think that he needs me...I just want him to be happy and if Potter…"

"No, _you_ make him happy!" Pansy cuts in, pulling his hands gently from face. "Yeah, he has a humongous crush on Potter but who doesn't-and okay, that wasn't helping...what I mean is that he wants you! Draco Lucius Malfoy knows what he wants and when he wants something, you give it to him."

"Maybe, I'm thinking about this all wrong," Blaise says, looking up at her. "I've been pushing Harry away all this time but -"

"You've broken his heart, as well," Pansy says, softly, with a sad smile. "You both did."

"A triad is unstable." Blaise says, his voice comes out breathless.

"But it's unbreakable with the right people."

"What should I do?"

"Do what your heart tells you." Pansy says, gently.

* * *

Harry wraps his arms around Draco whose staring at the far off wall blankly. He meant what he said, he refused to leave Draco like this. No matter how much his heart was hurting with each hateful word, he wouldn't leave.

"Harry?" Draco's voice was tiny and raw.

"Yes?" He clenched his eyes tight waiting for the next onslaught of curses and blames that would surely be thrown his way.

"I'm sorry," Draco sniffles, "I don't hate you, I like you... I like you, a lot."

A gust of air leaves Harry's lungs and he clings to those words like water. He cherishes them like fine silk and he shudders, "Thank you."

His eyes are still closed when he feels soft lips against his own, comforting and warm as he pushes back against them, starved for affection as he holds on to Draco desperately. He doesn't care about consequences at that moment - all there is now is Draco and his lips and warmth, Harry will cherish this just like every memory he has with him.

He pushes Draco back on to the couch and straddles his hips, peppering his face with butterfly kisses as his fingers trail down smooth, pale skin and he almost sobs at the need for this, the need for Draco.

"Draco?"

The moment is over as Draco pulls away and Harry turns to look over the fireplace and his throat tightens.

"Blaise." He breathes out, it's been only a week but it feels like years for him and something inside him flares and flutters at the sight of the man. He looks just as gorgeous as ever and all Harry wants to do is kiss him.

Draco lets out a strangled cry and climbs from under him, tripping over his own feet to make his way to Blaise. He jumps into his arms, Blaise instantly wrapping his arms around his waist and Draco pulls him in for a deep kiss and Harry can't look away, his eyes sad knowing he will never have them.

They aren't his.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Draco whispers against Blaise's lips, "I...L-l-l..."

"It's okay, Draco, you don't have to say it." Blaise says, softly, "I love you, too."

Draco buries his head into his chest, his shoulders shaking in relief and Harry stands to his feet, slowly.

Blaise looks up at him and smiles, sadly, "Harry, I'm sorry."

Harry nods, wordlessly. He doesn't trust himself to say anything worthy that isn't begging.

"Just give us some time...to figure this out." Blaise says and Harry understands the meaning and his heart crushes under the pressure of the rejection. "Just till we figure us out."

Harry lets out a small, disbelieving laugh, and Blaise can see the tears forming in his eyes. "Just till then?"

"Just till then." He confirms.

The next morning, Blaise finds another Mind Healer to replace him.


	17. all that I know is I'm falling, falling

**17**

_All that I know is I'm falling, falling, falling_

* * *

"I want Harry."

"You have a new Healer."

Pansy watches, uneasily, as both Draco and Blaise glare at each other heatedly. She sighs and rest her chin on the palm of her hand. "Well, this isn't awkward at all."

"I'm not going." Draco say, crossing his arms with a scowl. "You think those fools at Mungo's can handle me?"

"It's only for a while." Blaise says, running a hand through his hair, exhausted from the conversation already.

"I refuse."

"You've haven't been to a session in a week, Draco."

"And whose fault is that?" Draco rolls his eyes, "If you wouldn't feel threatened by Harry and -"

"What am I threatened by again?" Blaise gives him a sarcastic look, "I could give Potter a run for his money."

"I'll toast to that." Pansy says, raising her glass.

Draco huff, "I'm not going, I want Harry."

"Draco, please," Blaise sighs, and checks the time. "Just this once, until Potter and I can sort everything out between us."

"What is there to sort out?" Draco asks, with a glare. "It's you, it's all you. You like him, don't you? You've liked him for a long time."

Blaise gives him a startled look and Pansy coughs, "Draco, I -"

"Don't deny it, Blaise," Draco says, softly, "Because I like him, too. I like him _a whole fucking lot_."

"Draco, don't do this to me," Blaise pleads, softly, "Please."

"No," Draco rise from his seat, "I know you more than you know yourself. You're not thinking about what to do with Harry; you're pushing him away so you don't fall for him."

"Stop, Draco," Blaise says, tiredly, "Just stop. You are my boyfriend, you're enough - I don't need Harry and -"

"But you do," Draco says, a sad smile on his face. "We both do."

"No, we don't," Blaise says, angrily, he takes a deep breath in. "This - us- we're exclusive, Potter has no place in our relationship so just stop. This lust will go away - "

"Have you seen me, Blaise?" Draco lets out an incredulous laugh, "I can barely let you touch me intimately. I'm a bloody mess. This has _nothing_ to do with lust; you have as much feelings for him as I do."

"Maybe, I should -" Pansy begins, hesitantly, rising to her feet.

"Then, what? You want to be a triad?" Blaise says, coldly, "Those never work, Draco. Stop searching for a bloody fairy tale!"

"We can make it work," Draco snaps, "We'll all make it work. I know we can!"

"A relationship can't be built out of nothing," Blaise says, crossing his arms. "How can we manage a three-way when we can barely manage our own relationship?"

"It doesn't matter!" Draco shouts, "I want Harry and you do, too. That's enough for me."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I know you like him," Draco says, confidently, "Because you haven't denied my claim even once."

"I'm going back to bed." Blaise says, evenly, rising from his seat. "Go to your session."

* * *

"I hate his new Healer," It wasn't the first time Pansy thought this in the last week but it was the first time she voiced it to Blaise.

"Yes, I know," He replies with a sigh, "He hasn't been sleeping well and he refuses to go outside."

"It's his Mind Healer, Blaise," Pansy says, immediately, "No matter how irritating Potter was, he was competent in his work. This man is rude and brash and _I hate him_."

"You really think it's the Mind Healer, Pansy?"Blaise asks, running a hand through his hair. "If we are not one-hundred percent sure, we can't do anything but stop the sessions."

"Draco was recovering but this man...he seems dead, he flinches at any moment and he has constant panic attacks," Pansy looks at him with angry tears in her eyes. "For Merlin's sake, Blaise, he had an episode yesterday because I bloody sneezed!"

"Okay, Pansy, it's okay," He soothes as he placed a hand over her own. "I understand, we'll fix this."

"You better," Pansy says, threateningly, "He's my best friend, I hate seeing him like this."

"I know." Blaise sighs, "Can you convince him to go out for a while?"

"And get my eyes torn out," Pansy snaps back, "No thanks."

"It'll help," Blaise says, "It helped when Harry was here, he needs -"

"He needs Harry!"

Blaise closes his eyes, he was being stubborn and it was hurting Draco and himself too. His emotions were a whirlwind of confusing and contradictions, he was truly at a lost.

"Christmas is next month," Pansy says, softly, "Don't you want to spend it with the ones you love."

"Stop, Pansy." Blaise says, firmly, "Just go."

"Only if you go talk to Potter."

"Fine."

Pansy rises from her seat slowly, her eyes narrows, "Promise?"

"Sure."

"Blaise, I swear to Merlin, if you don't get Potter here by the time I get back - I _will_ hang you by your balls."

Blaise was out of the room before she could finish her threat.

* * *

Harry's week is a blur of tears, regret and pain. He isn't sure if he could ever leave Hermione's flat without feeling a sharp pain in his heart. He wipes the tears that forms as he fiddles with Hermione's teapot, he desperately needs a cuppa. He _needs_ to get over them, to forget them. He was an idiot to think it would ever work between them.

"Hello, Harry." A voice says, softly, behind him and Harry jumps at the sudden noise causing the teapot to clatter to the ground and hot water to spill and seep through his socks. He ignores the burning as he whirls around, his eyes wide as he looks at Blaise, taking a step back. His heart skips a bit at the sight of the gorgeous man and he takes in a deep breath, his fingers twitching.

"How did you know I was here?" Harry asks, roughly, his voice tight and raw from all his crying.

"Hermione." Blaise says, shrugging. "She told me you were staying at her flat."

"I wouldn't think Hermione was friendly to Slytherins."

"I'm an exception." Blaise sighs as he takes a step forward to Harry's stiff form. "Harry, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Harry looks down, wiggling his toes as the heat under them becomes unbearable. "I was stupid to think a triad would work between us."

"No, I've hurt you," Blaise says, he swallows thickly. "We both did."

Harry shrugs, helplessly, he didn't know what to say to that. It hurts looking at Blaise, to know that he couldn't be with him and he hates it. He hates having him standing right in front of him, so close but never his.

Harry looks away as Blaise sighs before he's moving until he's so close that Harry smells him, the earthy smell that has Harry addicted. Harry leans forward as Blaise places his hands on his shoulder and Harry looks up at him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Blaise says, again, his eyes sad. "I'm sorry we hurt you but -"

"A triad is unstable, I-I know." His throat is so tight, he wishes Blaise would step away. He can't think with him so close.

"We need you back," Blaise continues, "Draco is getting worse without you."

Harry shakes his head, he couldn't do that to himself any more. He couldn't be Draco's Healer knowing that he could never have him or Blaise. It hurts, it hurts too damn much. It would be a battle between his wills and his heart, it was too exhausting.

"I can't." He whispers. "I can't deal with that anymore."

"But, Draco, he's -"

"No," Harry says, firmly, "I quit, I don't want the job."

"Why?" Blaise's voice is a whisper and Harry looks at him, studying and he's falling for him all over again.

"Because I'm falling for you both!" Harry shouts, he feels angry that Blaise doesn't feel the same crushing affection he feels for him. "Because I can't be professional, I just _can't._"

Blaise is silent, watching him as he takes deep, shuddering breath.

"Because when I see Draco, I don't see a client - all I want to do is pull him in and kiss him," Harry whispers, "Because I want you so badly it hurts to breathe, to live. And I can't take this fucking rejection anymore, I can't! I'm human, too!"

"Harry..." Blaise whispers, he reaches his hand to his cheek to swipe away the tears and it feels so damn good.

"I hate you both for making me feel this way," Harry whispers, brokenly, "I hate it, I hate it, I hate -"

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Blaise says, but his voice seems so muted and far away. "We - I...like you."

"Then, why do you push me away?" Harry hisses, "Why did you make me suffer when all I wanted..."

"A triad -"

"Shut up." He pulls Blaise by the hem of his shirt to him, roughly, and press their lips together and it's so wonderful, everything he's ever imagined and he's gone, falling in the depths of this one kiss. He moves his lips against Blaise's urgently, wrapping his hands around his neck and sliding one hand up to tangle it up in curly hair. Then, guilt slams back into him like a Hippogriff at the sudden thought of Draco and he pulls back in shock, breathless.

"I'm sorry, shit, I'm sorry -"

He stops when Blaise cradles his head in his hand, looking at him with an unreadable expression and Harry thinks the worse and he closes his eyes in pain. They stay like that for a moment and the tension in the air is so thick that Harry has the sudden urge to run away from it all and curl up in the ball on Hermione's bed. He jolts out of his thought as he feels soft lips against his own, so gentle and as urgent as he was. It's sweet and tender and Harry melts.


	18. now, I know what I've found

**18**

_Now, I know what I have found_

* * *

Blaise remembers the last time he had done more with Draco than kissing. It was six months ago, he had gotten the blond off, a wet cloth around his hand as he stroked his boyfriend's length. It wasn't his ideal fantasy but Draco had been adamant that no semen could touch him or the sheets. He didn't mind.

But this, this was entirely different.

This was rough and raw and pure need.

Blaise isn't thinking - really, how is he supposed to think when Harry's tongue is delving inside his mouth, the stroke of a rough tongue sliding across his palate is distracting enough. His mind is blank and he is a starved man, as he pulls Harry closer to him.

Harry lets out a low moan as Blaise slips a hand under his shirt, to touch the warm, smooth skin underneath, and relishing the feeling of quivering muscles under his fingertips.

The air is thick with their desire and Blaise doesn't think twice as hes pushed against the counter, the sharp edge pushing against his hips.

Reality crashes full force into him when he feels Harry's hand slide down to unbuckle his pants. "Shit," Blaise says as he pulls away, his grip on Harry's arms are tight as he closes his eyes, tightly, trying to control the desire that is welling up inside of him leaving a burning fire in its wake. "I have to go - I can't deal with this right now."

"No," Harry says, firmly, his breath comes out quick and ragged as he grabs his hand when Blaise begins to pull away. "No more running."

"You kissed me," Blaise says, raggedly, "You kissed me and I liked it - I fucking kissed you."

"I know and I am not fucking sorry," Harry says, "You wouldn't have kissed me if you thought Draco would be hurt -."

"Shit, don't say it," Blaise cuts in, "Please, don't say you want a triad."

"I do," Harry says, determinedly, "I've never wanted anything more in my life, please. Please, give this a chance."

"Triads are unstable, Harry," Blaise whispers, his mind felt dizzy after kissing Harry. "If our magic don't mesh, we will only grow resentful and irritable to each other after time."

"Triads are also powerful and long-lasting if they do stand," Harry says, softly, wrapping his arms around his waist. He breathes in deeply taking in the earthy, warm scent of Blaise. "Tell me you don't feel the same and I will leave right now. It's not like I am asking you to leave Draco, I want you both."

"Harry -" He breathes, shuddering as Harry's hand trails down his back. "Stop."

"I don't believe you want me to stop, Blaise," Harry whispers, softly, "I think you want this as much as I do."

"I can't think right now," Blaise says, "I -"

"You are afraid," Harry says, grabbing Blaise's face to look at him. "You're afraid of how this will all end if this doesn't work out, how it will affect Draco."

"Yes," Blaise says, simply, pushing him away. He couldn't think with Harry being so close. "Don't do this, Harry."

Harry looks at him for a while before he takes a slow step forward, "You're the only one stopping this, Blaise. Why?"

"Draco - "

"Draco kissed me!" Harry exclaims, he curls his hands into fist. He feels angry at Blaise, for being stubborn or an idiot - he doesn't know. "This has nothing to do with Draco."

"This is all messed up!" Blaise shouts, heatedly. "What would the Prophet think about their beloved saviou- "

"Your reasons are getting annoying," Harry breathes out, he kisses his jaw hesitantly. "Stop thinking so much. Why must you always be so rational?" Harry leans forward, not waiting for an answer as his lips pressed against his. Blaise doesn't think about much after that.

* * *

Harry apparate to the flat almost hesitantly; he still feels like he is intruding in their relationship, that he shouldn't be here at all but Blaise's hand is on the lower of his back, warm and reassuring as he pushes him towards the kitchen.

After a few more snogging sessions, they had finally agreed to go further only after Blaise had spoken to Draco. The thought of getting a glimpse of heaven before being thrown back out scared Harry but he agreed.

The smell of something delicious and spicy fills his nostrils and makes his mouth waters as he enters the kitchen. Pansy is sitting at the table, her head cradled in her hands as she talks softly to Draco whose near the stove, cooking.

It was odd, watching him do something so domestic.

Pansy notices them, after a moment, and her eyes lights up, "Good job, Blaise."

Blaise coughs just as Draco turns around and Harry's voice is caught in his throat and he doesn't know what to say. He stands there frozen until Draco takes him out of his misery.

"Would you...like to stay for dinner?" Draco asks, hesitantly, shrugging as he nods towards where the smell is coming from a steaming pot. "I make some decent chili."

"I didn't know you cooked." Harry laughs, nervously.

"It's pouring ingredients into a pot, no different than potion class." Draco smirks a bit. "Well?"

Harry laughs, "Yeah, I'd like that."

"Well, then," Pansy says, loudly, sliding out from her seat. "I'll just take my leave, then."

She winks at Harry as she passes by and beckons Blaise to bend forward. He complies, with a confused expression, she smiles fondly as she pats Blaise's head and says, "Good boy." Then, she is gone.

Blaise rolls his eyes before he leads Harry to the table and pushes him down to sit.

Silence falls over them, Draco occupied with the food while Blaise fixes the table. He watches, silently, as Blaise kisses Draco and speaks softly to him for a minute and Harry shudders, rethinking his decision. He couldn't do this; he couldn't fit into a four year relationship. He'll ruin everything, like he ruins everything good in his -

"Stop thinking so much, Potter," Draco cuts in his thoughts and Harry blinks up at him in surprise, he didn't even see him come closer.

Draco leans down and smiles, pushing forward to kiss Harry's lips. Harry lets out a muffled noise of surprise, not expecting Draco's lips on his, and the blond pushes into it further, prying open his mouth with his insistent tongue.

After a minute, Draco pulls back and Harry is short of breath from the kiss and the ever-present tightness of his heart.

"I'm kind of fucked up and I have my bad days, I have a lot of triggers - I can't say_ those_ words and normal things like touches and even numbers freak me out," Draco says, softly, nibbling his bottom lip as Blaise comes up behind him to wrap an arm around his waist. "And Blaise is sometimes moody and reserved and works a lot."

Harry breath hitches and he swears he forgets to breathe.

"But, if you can handle all of that and still want to be with us, then...will you become our boyfriend?" Blaise continues as Draco holds onto his hands tightly.

Harry blinks at them, rapidly.

He finally looks away as he bows his head, a frown on his face, "I should be pissed off because you both hurt me - and I should make you hurt as much as I've hurt in these past months but..." Harry whispers, trailing off as he looks at his hands. "I can't."

"We are sorry," Blaise says, softly, "We never wanted to hurt you, Harry. I just wanted to keep this all professional but - "

"Yeah, I know." Harry gives him a reassuring smile, "Let's just leave this all behind us."

"So...is that a yes?" Blaise asks, in fear and worry.

"I would be an idiot if I said no." Harry laughs, wetly.

"Good because the first thing you need to do as my boyfriend is wipe the snot from your face and kiss me." Draco says in a serious tone.

Harry happily obliges.


	19. can't keep this beating heart at bay

**19**

_Can't keep this beating heart at bay_

* * *

Harry sighs in relief as he escapes the bitter cold that December has brought. Draco trails in behind him, moodily, trudging in his dragon hide boots that are covered with snow.

"Come on," Harry says, warmly, pulling off Draco's thick coat before he hangs it on the hook near the door. "Let's get you warm."

"I don't understand," Draco says as he follows him to the living room where Blaise is lounging on the couch, his right arm thrown over his eyes as a warm fire crackles softly filling the room with warmth. "We still go on walks, why can't you still be my Mind Healer?"

"I go on walks with you so we can have some alone time," Harry says, smiling as he bends over the couch to peck Blaise's lips. His heart quickens, even after weeks he was still a bit dizzy at the fact that he is freely able to do that, now. "Besides there is a conflict of interest, you shouldn't hire me no more than you should hire Blaise."

"A conflict of interest?"

"I'm your boyfriend," Harry grins, a giddy feeling bubbling in his gut. "I'm biased."

"Don't look so soppy when you say that," Draco snaps at him even as a fond smile forms on his face. "We've only been dating for a month."

"It feels like years for me." Harry shrugs, "Don't be so pessimistic."

Draco groans as he slouches next to Blaise, tucking his cold feet under his boyfriend's legs who merely grunt. "Mungo's won't know if you're still my Healer _and_ my boyfriend."

"Sorry, Draco, you need to see a Healer and it's not going to be me," Harry says, softly, "I promise I will be right there with you, though."

"Oi," Draco slaps Blaise's thigh, "You've gone to work, yet?"

Blaise groans before he says, "Somewhat."

"Somewhat?"

"A few hours, Granger needed me on that ridiculous case Natasha has us on."

"Are you returning?" Harry asks.

"Maybe, tomorrow and before Christmas, then I'll be free until New Year." Blaise mumbles, "Now, let me sleep."

"You have no reason to be tired," Draco mutters before he turns to Harry and says, "I've been better, this is what I need. A threesome."

"I'm glad you think you're doing better," Harry says, slowly. "But you still need a Healer."

"Harry's right," Blaise sighs, yawning as he uncovers his eyes. He blinks up at the ceiling, slowly, "What time is it?"

"Just after four," Harry says, "It's your turn to make dinner."

"Yes, I know." Blaise stands up and stretches, "How was shopping?"

"Perfect," Draco says, brightly. "I didn't have any panic attacks - " He gives Harry a sly glance, "See? I don't _need_ a Healer. Harry cured me."

"No, I haven't," Harry says, as Blaise bends down and pressed a kiss against Draco's lips and Harry quickly looks away, trying to bury the jealousy that rears its ugly head at the sight.

He reminds himself that he was being silly - he had nothing to be jealous about. "You didn't panic because you held my hand like iron the whole time."

"That's sweet." Blaise says as he pulls Harry to him and kisses him. Harry sighs against his lips. Blaise pulls away with a smile and adds, "Besides, Draco, I'm working on looking for a new Mind Healer for you since Harry much prefer his current position."

"I do." Harry hums in delight.

"Could it be after Christmas? I would hate for it to ruin my mood." Draco mutters.

Blaise shrugs before he nods, pulling away from the two to head in the kitchen, "I'll go make tea."

"You know," Draco begins as he jumps up from the couch and pulls Harry with him to follow Blaise into the kitchen. "If you two wanted to have sex, I wouldn't mind."

Harry chokes on air, stumbling, as he flushes, "Where did that come from?"

Blaise looks amused as he bends down to search for a clean kettle in the bottom cabinet.

Draco shrugs, turning to him, "Well, don't let my OCD give you blue balls."

"Draco, I didn't enter this relationship for sex," Harry lets out a nervous laugh. "Really, we're fine."

"We are?" Blaise asks, curiously. He straightens with the kettle and he walks to the sink and fills the kettle with water before placing it on the stove. He hums in thought before he says, "I guess we are."

Harry turns to him in shock, "You aren't seriously considering this?"

Blaise shrugs, "Well, he's offering."

"I don't care, we're a triad. If we have sex, I want it to be together -"

"Merlin, you're a bloody romantic," Draco groans, putting a hand over his face. "If it helps, I will watch."

"That only makes you a voyeur." Harry threw his hands in the air and sat at the table. "Honestly, no one feels this would be the wrong approach?"

"He's offering," Blaise repeats as he leans against the counter. "It would be rude to decline."

"Stop kidding around, this is serious."

"I trust Draco," Blaise replies, "He wouldn't insist on it if he didn't want it to happen."

"See, Blaise gets it," Draco says, smiling, "I'm fine, Harry, _honest._"

"Draco, I don't want you to feel like you're being left out -"

"I'm fine," Draco repeats, letting out a sigh. "I like this," He makes a circular motion between them, "Three is a good number, it makes me less anxious."

"Draco—"

"It stabilizes me," Draco cuts in, quickly, bouncing his knee rapidly before he adds, "When it was just Blaise and I, I _hated_ it. Not him but just the thought of _two_ people," Draco shudders before he says, "But three is fine, _I'm_ fine."

"You have untreated PTSD and your OCD is half managed," Harry says, softly, "I just don't want you to think -"

"I'm not a child," Draco huffs, crossing his arms across his chest, "I can manage, Harry."

"I'm just saying," Harry shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets, "If you need someone to talk with -"

"That isn't your job," Draco mutters, he counts the lines etched on the table silently before he adds; "You're my boyfriend, _not_ my Mind Healer."

"Draco..."

"Just drop it, Harry." Draco pleads, softly.

Harry looks at Blaise for help but the man merely shrugs, placing a cup of tea in front of Draco. "I'm going to decorate the living room, any help?"

"I prefer to watch." Draco waves him away and he rolls his eyes.

"Harry?" Blaise raises an eyebrow at him as he passes by and out of the room.

"Only if I get to kiss you under the mistletoe," Harry says, resignedly, as he follows him out of the room. Draco watches, silently, as they leave.


	20. watch where you tread before you fall

**20**

_watch where you tread before you fall_

* * *

"You're not going to be here for Christmas?" Ron asks with a frown, "You've never missed Christmas before, mate."

"Obviously, he met someone, Ron." Hermione says with a smile, "Well, have you?"

"Something like that," Harry rubs the back of his neck, nervously. "I'm going to spend it over with Blaise and Draco's."

Hermione stiffens at his words, blinking her eyes rapidly before she says, "Excuse me?"

Ron scrunches up his nose, "Why them?"

"Well, I've been helping with Draco recovery these past month - since September, actually." Harry shrugs, "It's nothing really."

"And you trust them?" Ron asks.

"Of course I do."

"Then, I'll trust you." Ron says with a sigh, "Invite them to dinner."

"That is - wow, Ron that is very mature of you." Harry says, admirably. "I don't know if they will but I think we'll spend Christmas at their house, maybe, next-."

"You can't," Hermione blurts out, "You can't do that."

Harry raises his eyebrow in surprise, "Sorry?"

"You can't spend Christmas with them," Hermione says with thin lips, "The Weasleys...yes, it's a tradition. We always have it here."

"Well, this year I'm having it with Blaise and Draco." Harry says, there was no way he would miss spending Christmas with his boyfriends. "I'm sure Molly will understand. "

Hermione shoots him a betrayed look before she huffs, "I have to go to work." before she marches out of the room, her heels clicking angrily against the tile floor; Harry watches her leave with a confused expression on his face.

"What the bloody hell?" He asks, aloud.

Ron shrugs, scratching his hair, "Some crush she's got on her colleague has her wound up, lately."

Harry nods, feeling concern for his best friend. "I'll talk to her about it later."

Ron shrugs, unconcerned, before he says, "So, what's the deal, mate?"

"What are you on about?"

Ron gives him a flat look, "You wouldn't miss family dinner for just Malfoy and Zabini if they didn't mean something to you."

"I don't know what you mean." Harry mumbles, blushing.

"You're a horrible liar." Ron laughs.

"Alright," Harry lets out a long breath, "We've created a triad."

"Sorry, I didn't catch that." Ron says, his mouth agape.

"A bloody triad - you heard me!"

Ron takes a step back and studies Harry's face, trying to decide if he was being wound up. "No way, you're shagging both of them?" he demanded, with a skeptical expression of incredulous delight.

"We haven't gotten to that part yet but we're together," Harry nods sheepishly, and Ron cackles.

"What, do you have, like, a harem or something?"

"It's more of a mutual thing," Harry mutters, glad that Ron didn't look too appalled with the idea. "It's not a bloody harem."

Ron was wheezing with hysterical laughter, trying to get a coherent sentence out, and Harry finally slaps him on the arm. "Shut up!"

"I can see the headlines now," Ron grins, "Dirty Harry's Slytherin Gangbang! Skeeter will write it and everything - oh, merlin, I can't breathe!"

"Shut up!" Harry repeats, more forcefully. "You can never tell anyone, alright?"

Ron shakes his head, trying to arrange his face into something more serious. "I won't tell, you know that. Your secrets are safe with me, mate."

"I know." Harry sighs. "Do you think it's - weird?"

Ron sniggers, "Of course it's weird. But who cares? If you're happy, that's the main thing." He hesitates before he adds, "You _are_ happy, right?"

"It's all fairly new," Harry says, hesitantly, "It's too soon and -"

"Harry," Ron cuts him off, grabbing his shoulders tightly. "Are you happy?"

Harry nods, and Ron leans forward for an awkward man hug, "Then, that's all that matters mate."

* * *

"The patient in room 455 is finally awake," Natasha says, briskly, pushing the file into Blaise's hands. "He's the only one that's woken up since this weird, magical depletion phenomenon started." She makes a waving motion at them, "Now, shoo."

Blaise nods, turning around as he walks towards the room in silence. He just wanted to get this over with and go home to his boyfriends. Spending six hours with Granger didn't help his headache either.

"Harry is spending Christmas with you?" Granger blurts out; she walks alongside of Blaise who seems startled by the question. "Why?"

His eye twitches in irritation before he says, "That isn't any of your concern, Granger."

Hermione blushes with a huff, "I'm merely asking...as a friend." She gives him a side glance that he supposes is meant to be menacing, "Harry is my best friend, you know."

Blaise rolls his eyes as he opens the door and says, "Enough with the Gryffindor sentimentality, its Christmas Eve and I just want to see this patient and go home."

She opens her mouth as if she is about to say something before she thinks better of it and calmly walks into the room. The patient is sitting in an upright position, pale and looking haggard as he looks up to the two Healers.

"Hello, Mr Johnson, how are you feeling?" Blaise asks, politely, moving to stand next to him.

"Alright, I guess." Johnson says with a grunt, he looks him over in confusion, "Are you the doctors?"

_Muggle,_ Blaise thinks, instantly, as Hermione eyes widen after a second once she's caught on. She takes a step forward but Blaise stops her with a shake of his head.

"What is the last thing you remember?" Blaise asks, he watches as the man scratches his head in thought, his forehead creasing as he shakes his head.

"Not much actually," He looks between the two, "There was a man, he kidnapped me, I think. Brought me to a cabin far off from civilization with a bunch of other blokes," His lips thin and his voice grows pensive, "I remember pain, lots of it and screams filled the cabin constantly - he kept mumbling things."

"What things, Mr Johnson?" Hermione asks, gently.

"He said he was close," Johnson's fingers trembles as he lets out a shaky breath, "Said something about a Grand Magic World, whatever that means." He looks up at Blaise, his eyes were desperate as he whispers, "Rubbish, right?"

Blaise ignores him and turns to Granger, "Firecall the Aurors."

"It's rubbish, right?" Johnson looks at him with panic, "Everything I saw, heard - I must've been hallucinating. Magic can't be real, it can't!"

"Please, calm down, Mr Johnson," Blaise says as Hermione walks out of the room, "Everything will be alright. Now, please, can you describe the man that captured you?"

"Yeah, yeah," He looks shaken as he shifts in the bed, "He was tall with long blond hair, he wore a mask, of sorts - I don't know...maybe, a skull or someth -"

"Are you sure?" Blaise asks, suddenly.

Johnson looks him over and nods, "Yeah, I'm positive. Look, what's going on here? What hospital am I in?" There was a stretch of silence as the man looks over at Blaise, anxiously before he hits the side of his bed, angrily, "Answer me, dammit! Where the hell am-"

"Thank you, Mr Johnson." Blaise cuts in, tightly, as he turns around sharply. "You will be visited soon by the right people."

"Wait! Where the hell am I?"

Blaise is already out the door, shutting it firmly. He leans against the door and lets out a shaky breath, before he slides down to the ground to sit. He buries his hands into his hair as his heart thuds rapidly against his rib cage, "Shit."

His mind was whirring with the information, disbelief coursed through him like a live wire as he stares blankly ahead, other healers and patients passing by him giving him worried glances. He doesn't know how long he sits there, trying to wrap his mind on the situation as well figuring out what to do. He buries his face into his hands, lost in his thoughts.

"Blaise!" He looks up to see Granger rushing towards him and he stands up almost mechanically. She takes a moment to catch her breath before she says, "The Aurors are on their way."

"Good, he needs to be memory wiped afterwards," Blaise says.

"They are muggles, aren't they?" She whispers, her eyes fills with worry. "They've been kidnapped."

"Yeah," Blaise looks past her, distractedly, "Their magical cores haven't been depleted - they never had one to begin with."

"So, what are we dealing with?" Granger asks, softly.

"Something far more than we can handle," Blaise says as he looks to the door with a glance, "Those muggles are the failed test subjects of Lucius Malfoy."

"What?" Granger shrieks causing the medi-witch that passes by to jump in surprise. "What do you mean by that? Lucius Malfoy has been dead for four years! How can this- what's happening?" She frowns, "You have to tell me, my parents - I...they don't know much about magic."

"Don't you see?" Blaise snaps, "The description is obviously Lucius Malfoy - I don't know how he is alive but he is experimenting...with muggles."

"Experimenting with what?" Granger demands, "I am Muggleborn, Blaise, if Malfoy is trying to wipe out the muggles or something, I have to know!"

"Shit, shit, shit," Blaise mutters under his breath, ignoring her completely. "Draco," He breathes out and whirls around as he hurriedly says, "Shit, I have to go."

"Wait!" Granger says, holding on to his arm as he turns to leave, "We need to fill out a report, we need-"

"You'll do that, won't you?" Blaise cuts in, unlatching her fingers from his arms, he looks over her once more before he turns and says, "I have to go. Have a nice Christmas, Granger."


	21. Am I wrong for thinking that we can be

**21**

_Am I wrong for thinking that we can be something for real?_

* * *

It is rare when Draco is left alone without supervision so he cherishes when an occasion arises. Don't get him wrong, he enjoys Blaise, Pansy, and now, Harry's company but, sometimes, it becomes overbearing and a bit annoying.

He hates feeling like a burden. As if, he doesn't deserve the care and attention that his best friend and lovers give him - and he doesn't; he is an abomination. His father, at least, grained that into his useless head.

There are days when all he wants is to be normal - to hold hands, to stop counting and establish his career but, then, there are days where he wants to hide in a corner like he used to when he was young, crying and lonely as he was forgotten by his parents.

He bites his lip as he shakes his head, physically attempting to remove the morbid thoughts from his head. After making cup of tea and redoing it twice when the water boiled to eight minutes and not nine - he curls up in a ball on the couch, his head laid on the arm and a book in his hands. The one that Harry has given to him to read when he is bored.

They were mostly muggle novels with the occasional Potion journal inserted but he enjoyed them, nonetheless. He opens the book and a note flutters to the ground and his eyes widen as he catches a glimpse of it.

"Hello," Draco stares at his hands, he sit back on the couch. "Will you not acknowledge me?"

Draco lets out a shaky breath, his mind was playing tricks on him, again, and he refuses to succumb to the fear of it.

"That's quite alright; I just need you to listen."

Draco swallows thickly, his head bowed as he ignores the voice, he refuses to look up.

"Do you think I wouldn't have found you?" There were footsteps before the sultry, tenor voice is near his ear, "That I could break you again and again until you forgot everything but me."

"No," Draco finally responds; looking up to meet cold, grey eyes. "You will never break me again, Father."

"I will," Lucius hiss out, his mouth twists into a devious smile and Draco stares past him, unseeing, as his heart thuds against his rib cage. "Because you are my son and I will do with you as I please."

"No, no, no," Draco repeats, shaking his head, his resolve wavering at the promise in his father's eyes. "You will never have me."

"Oh, I will, Draco," Lucius says straightening up, he looks down at him with a sneer, "Consider this a welcome home present."

"Shut up!" Draco shouts his words echoes loudly in the silent house.

"You think you can stand on your own feet, boy?" Lucius raises an eyebrow, coolly. "You _need_ me -"

"Draco!" He turns to see Harry and Blaise enters the room, crowding him instantly. He doesn't understand why they aren't panicking at the sight of his father, though.

"Are you alright?" Harry asks in worry.

"He's right there…"

"Who, Draco?" Blaise looks around before he turns to him, "There's no one here."

"He's right there," Draco says, tearfully, staring at where Lucius lounged on the couch across from him. "How can you not see him?"

"They don't understand, Draco," Lucius says, "They don't understand you like I do, you need me."

"I will never need you," Draco whispers as he blinks away his tears, the comforting weight of Harry around him anchors him as Blaise crouches in front of him.

"Draco whatever you're seeing right now is a hallucination, baby," Blaise is whispering as he stares past him where Lucius stood near the fire. "It isn't here, _He_ isn't here."

"Be prepared, son." Lucius says, mockingly. "Soon."

"Come on, Draco, it's only in your mind," Harry says, brushing a hand across Draco's face and the blond takes in a deep breath. "Counting, that calms you, right? Count the prime numbers starting with 167. You don't have to count the even ones."

Good, he only knows the odd ones, anyways.

"167...173...179..." Draco's voice quivers as he recites them all, he closes his eyes tightly as the odd numbers and Harry's encouraging voice calms him like a lullaby. It seems like a few moments but he is already up to nine-hundred when he finally stops and opens his eyes.

He lets out a relieved breath when he sees that it was the only three of them and he blinks down at Blaise, who face was contorted with worry.

"Trigger?" Blaise asks, softly.

Draco knows what he means and he turns away to pick up the note he had found in his book and handed it to Blaise.

Blaise sighs, leaning his head against his knee. "How did he get in?" He hands the note to Harry who eyes widen when he reads it.

_SOON - LM_

* * *

"How was your holiday?" Granger asks as soon as she spots him, it was a day after New Year and Blaise had been reluctant to return to work.

"Fine," Blaise says, curtly. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Well, that's good." Granger says, shifting a bit. "Shall we make rounds?"

"I actually have to do something first, actually." Blaise says. "I will meet up with you in a few."

"What is it?" Granger asks before she quickly adds, "Maybe, I can help."

"Really, now?" Blaise drawls as he turns from her, "Thanks but no thanks, Granger."

"Oh, come on, Blaise," Granger runs up to cut him off and gives him a pointed look, "We're friends, right?"

"I need to find a new Mind Healer, if you must know," Blaise says, exasperatedly. "The Head Mind Healer bailed on me so I was heading to the Mental Ward."

"Rogers?" Granger asks in surprise. "That isn't like him."

"Rogers?" Blaise looks at her in confusion before he says, slowly, "No, you have it wrong."

"I know who is the Head Mind Healer is, Blaise," Granger rolls her eyes in annoyance; "I work with Rogers quite a lot."

Blaise looks at her, a sense of dread fills his guts as he croaks out, "No, Harry is the Head Mind Healer."

Granger takes a step back in surprise, "Harry?_ My_ Harry?"

"What other Harry do we know, Granger?" Blaise snaps, annoyed by Granger's evasiveness, he lets out a breath as he says, "Don't mess with me, Granger."

"Blaise," Granger places a hand on his shoulder. Her brown eyes wide with anxiety and worry and Blaise's heart twists, painfully, and he stumbles back as Granger whispers, "Harry isn't a Mind Healer."


	22. No, you didn't have to stoop so low

**22**

_No, you didn't have to stoop so low_

* * *

Blaise forces himself to continue to work, his questions and diagnoses seems almost mechanical as his world crumbles around him and he is left with no bearing, nothing to latch on. He refuses to hear Granger's explanation;if he was going to get the truth, it would come from Harry's mouth.

Blaise ignores Granger's sympathetic looks that she throws at him every few minutes as they make rounds.

He feels hurt more than he anger; hurt that Harry deceived them and lied to them but for what?

He wasn't sure and that hurt, he thought they were getting somewhere with this whole triad thing but it only made it worse; made the pain in his heart hurt even more.

"Dammit! I told Natasha that I didn't want that damn Death Eater on my case," the shout pulls him away from his thoughts and he looks down at the elderly man glaring up at him with warts all over him.

"I am sorry, sir, but we are a team," Granger says, professionally, "I can assure you, he is one of the best -"

"I don't give a rat's ass!" Blaise quickly ducks as the man throws his pitcher of water at him, the pitcher hits the wall with a loud bang, "I'm not letting no bloody pureblood supremacist come near me! Get him the hell out of here!"

"Sir, please!"

"I'll just wait outside." Blaise says, tightly. He was too tired and confused to deal with this man's hate for purebloods.

"Pureblood scum, go back to the cage you came from! Bloodsucker!" Blaise swallows the lump that forms in his throat as he turns away from the patient and walks out the room, shutting it just in time to catch another insult to his blood heritage.

Blaise leans his head against the door , taking in deep breath and if a few tears slips down his face as he listens to the man's degradation of purebloods, it wasn't any ones business but his.

* * *

"Hey," Draco greets with a smile as Blaise enters the kitchen, slowly. "Harry made cake."

"Where is Harry?" Blaise asks, he looks around, "I need to talk to him - actually, I need you to go to Pansy's for a while."

"Excuse me? No way!" Draco protests with a frown. "Why can't you talk to him with me here?"

"Draco, please, don't be difficult," Blaise sighs as he moves to the fridge and pulls out a butterbeer. "It's been a long day."

"No," Draco crosses his arms, stubbornly, his gray eyes narrows. "I am _not_ a child and this is a triad. We all talk or we don't talk, at all."

"Hey, you're home," Blaise freezes at Harry's voice, it feels like a stab to his heart and he slams the bottle of butterbeer on the counter. "What's going on?"

"It's Blaise," Draco says with a confused voice. "He came home pissy."

He hears footsteps walking towards him before he feels a hand on his shoulder, "Love, what's wrong?"

"Don't touch me," Blaise slaps his hand away, angrily. "Do _not _touch me right now, Harry."

"What is your problem?" Draco snaps, fed up with Blaise's attitude, "Just because you had a hard day, doesn't mean you have to take it out on us."

"Draco, its fine," Harry says, calmly as he takes a step back from Blaise.

"No, it's not. He's being a jerk."

"You want to know what my problem is." Blaise turns around angrily; Harry takes a step back in surprise at the amount of anger and hurt in those brown eyes. "Harry, why did you lie to us?"

"W-what?" Harry widens his eyes in alarm.

"Don't lie to me, Harry," Blaise whispers, sharply, "Hermione told me, why did you lie to us?"

"Harry, what is he talking about?" Draco asks, looking between the two.

"I-I... don't know." Harry whispers, he looks to the ground.

"Oh, don't you?" Blaise lets out a bitter laugh, "I suppose making up your entire career becomes a reality after some time."

Harry pales at his words and Draco looks at him with wide eyes.

"Is...Is that true?" Draco's voice is tiny, filled with doubt and hurt. "You're not a Mind Healer, Harry?"

"Draco," Harry breathes out before he turns to Blaise, "Please, let me explain."

"No, Harry," Draco snarls, slamming his hands on the table, "I'm your patient and you talk to _me!_ Are you or are you not a Mind Healer?"

"Draco," He clenches his eyes shut and sighs in defeat, "I'm an Auror."

The revelation settles a pregnant silence on them as Draco slumps against his chair in shock and Blaise merely looks at Harry, blankly. Harry lets out a shuddering breath and runs a hand through his hair, he feels suffocated under the silence and he shifts, uncomfortably.

"I am so sorry…"

"I can't believe this." Blaise turns away from him; he slams his hand angrily against the counter. "I can't fucking believe this!"

Draco curls up in the chair, his arms wraps around his legs as he buries his head into his knees. He is shaking, his eyes filled with rage and hurt as soft murmurs escapes past his lips.

"I trusted you...with everything," Draco whispers, brokenly, and Harry turns to him with sad, green eyes. "With all my secrets and fears…how could you lie about that? How could you lie to _me?"_

"Draco, I am so sorry that I lied to you," Harry whispers, his voice is filled with regret, "I-I... never wanted it to go this far. When I met Blaise on the lift, it was all planned. I was undercover for the Auror Department -" He shudders, shaking his head as he whispers, "I never wanted it to go this far."

"Then, when were you going to stop, Harry?" Blaise asks, in a tight, sneering voice, "When we were ten years into our relationship and thinking about marriage?"

"N-no, of course not," Harry stutters as he takes a step back from the intensity of Blaise's gaze. "_Never_ that."

"Why?" Draco asks his voice soft and everything falls silent and still.

Harry sighs, running his hand through his hair in frustration, "It's my job!" He bites his bottom lip as he hunches his shoulder with self-loathing, "We've had a lead on Lucius for a year, now, and that he was planning on making a comeback in the wizarding world. We figured that he would come to his son for sanctuary first."

"So, what? You wanted to use him?" Blaise snarls, "You're using us?"

"No! Please, just listen," Harry pleads, softly, with wide eyes, "When I got on that lift with you Blaise, it was planned and I was supposed to act as Draco's Mind Healer but that's it. Everything after was my own feelings, thoughts - I care for you both so much."

"Then, why didn't you tell us?" Blaise asks, his voice cracking with emotions.

"Because I didn't want to hurt you," Harry whispers, he exhales before he adds, "I didn't want to lose you both."

"Well, your little mission is over," Draco spat out, "You know firsthand what kind of relationship I have with my father and I would never let that monster inside my house, so just leave us alone."

"No," Harry says, firmly, he stumbles forward, "I messed up, badly, and I should've told you the truth but you can't deny that you don't feel the same for me, that you care about me as much as I do you."

"I don't know what I feel about you, right now," Blaise says, his face expressionless, "Let alone if I should trust you."

"I want to start over," Harry says, "I want to make this right between us."

"You had no right," Draco says, coldly, glaring at him, "You deceived us! You used me just so you could get to my father! How could I ever forgive you?"

"I'm so sorry," Harry says his eyes sincere, "Please, I love you both and that isn't a lie. I am so sorry I never told you, I never wanted to lie to you."

"You don't even realize how much you've hurt me," Draco says in a soft whisper, his head was swimming with betrayal but he refuse to let the tears to fall, "I trusted you...doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Oh, love, yes," Harry rushes to kneel next to him, placing a hand on his cheek. Draco slaps it away, "I love you."

"That doesn't mean anything if there isn't trust in this relationship, Harry." Blaise whispers as his words cause Draco to recoil from Harry and turn away from him.

Harry looks pained as he stands up, slowly. "I fucked up everything."

"You did." Blaise agrees, he turns to Harry and lets out a shuddering breath, "I don't know what to believe, anymore."

Harry shakes his head, "Don't say that, please. How can I make this right? Please, I'd do anything. I can't lose either of you."

Draco is silent; his silence unbearable to Harry as he looks at him with pleading eyes, silently begging for forgiveness.

"I don't know," Draco finally says, "All I know is that I don't want to see you ever again."

"Is that what you really want?" Harry asks, his voice rough as he looks at Blaise, tearfully, "Both of you?"

"Yes." Draco breathes out, a stray tear slides down his cheek.

"No," Blaise says, tightly, and both men turn to him in surprise. "I think...I want a break," He nods, resolutely, as he continues, "I think we should all take a break from each other and reevaluate our relationship."

Draco looks hurt as he looks at Blaise, "B-Blaise?"

"I love you, Draco, more than anything in this world. I would give my life for you and I cared for Harry deeply but…" Blaise closes his eyes, briefly, before he continues, "My mind and emotions are too messed up, right now; I don't want to say something I will regret later." He sighs as he turns to look at Draco, "It would probably be good for all of us to take a few months to consider where we are, and where we want to go. Some time to figure out if we're all on the same page before we continue this relationship."

"So, what?" Draco wipes away the tears, angrily, "You want to throw away everything we fought for, everything we have?"

"No, I want us all to get ourselves together," Blaise sighs, before he looks at him, pointedly, "Including you, I want you to get better and, obviously, we were idiots to think you would get better in a relationship." He nods his head, firmly, when Draco shakes his head in denial. "Yes, we need a break."

"Harry lied through our whole relationship with him!" Draco shouts, "Are you just going to let that go after this break?"

"No, we're hurt and angry, now. I don't want us to say something we'll regret in two days or even, years from now." Blaise looks between the two, intensely, "I just want us all to come back in three or four months to know what we want and talk it out," Blaise says, "I want to make this work without deception or lies."

"Blaise," Harry steps forward. "I swear –"

"Don't, Harry," Blaise looks him straight in the eyes, his eyes narrowed, "You've hurt us, deceived us...and that means when we come back, we may _not _want you. So, you have to accept that you'll have to earn our trust and love again."

"I understand," Harry lets out a slow breath, blinking rapidly, "Perfectly.

"Three months." Blaise reminds them both, softly, before he walks out of the kitchen, the tears not falling until he is in the bedroom, breaking down over the striped shirt Draco hates so much.


	23. nobody said it was easy

**23**

_Nobody said it was easy_

* * *

Harry feels lost as he stumbles into Hermione's flat. He feels like heart was pulled out from his chest and stomped on as he swipes the tears away; he inhales a desperate gulp of air as he leaned against the wall, trying to clear his head.

"Harry?" Hermione calls out from the kitchen, "Is that you?"

Harry shudders at the sound of her voice, a rage that engulfs him whole ignites from deep within him and he practically runs into the kitchen, his green eyes darkens and his hands curls into tight fists as he catches a glimpse of his supposedly best friend.

"Why?" Harry chokes out, _"Why?"_

"Harry," Hermione looks at him in concern, he stops her with a hand in the air as she tries to take a step forward, "Are you alright?" she whispers, hesitantly.

"Don't, Hermione," His voice wavers and trembles with anger, he shakes his head in disbelief as he whisper, "You can fool Blaise with that look but _not _me," Harry growls, walking towards her as he shouts, "Why did you tell him!" He grabs her by the shoulder and shakes her, roughly, "How could you do this to me, Hermione!"

Hermione huffs, she roughly pushes him away and glares at him, "I just thought it would be in everyone's interest that you end the lies now. Blaise is my friend too and I honestly didn't realize he didn't know so this isn't my fault, it's yours."

"My fault?" Harry repeats with a short laugh, "Right, because you were looking out for me like you always do."

"Of course, Harry." Hermione says with narrowed eyes.

"No, it was in your interest," Harry whispers, deadly, as he takes a step forward. "You like him but I didn't expect you to stoop so low, I feel like I don't even know you anymore! I can't believe you can do this to me!"

"Yes!" Hermione hiss in anger, "I've liked him since he answered the first question in Healer training!" Hermione shouts, tearfully. "But he _never_ gives me the time of day! But you, perfect _Harry Potter_, come for a few months and you take what's MINE."

"He was never yours to begin with, you crazy bitch," Harry snarls, "You pushed him away from Draco, as well," Harry runs a hand through his hair in frustration, "I can't even look at you, right now. You disgust me."

"Why?" She lets out a short, cutting laugh, "Because I'm ambitious and I know what I want."

"You're insane!" Harry shouts, "You've messed up our relationship for such a selfish reason, how dare you!"

Hermione gives him a deprecating smile, "You don't deserve him, and you don't understand him like I do!"

"Shut up!" Harry roars, "Do you even hear what you're saying, right now?"

"What is wrong with knowing what you want, Harry?" Hermione shouts, "Why, for once, can't I have the man of my dreams?"

"He doesn't want you, you are a cruel, selfish human being that doesn't deserve to with anyone and I hope you end up alone. I never want to see you again, Hermione Granger and if you ever so try anything with Blaise, I will rip your tongue out," Harry walks to her as he speaks until he is standing right in front of her, he hiss out, "So, _back off_."

* * *

"Hello, mother," Blaise says, as he steps into the foyer of Zabini Mansion. His mother gives him a calculating look before she turns back to her wine.

"So, you broke up with him?"

"Yes."

Isabella hums in thought, pursuing her red lips together before she says, "The Penthouse?"

"I will need renovations done if I am to move in," Blaise says, emotionlessly. He feels numb and he supposes that is a good thing because if he felt anything right now, he was sure he would burst into hysterical tears in front of his frigid mother. "I, also, wish for you to sign some papers for me."

"For?" She asks, flippantly.

There is a moment's pause. "Mother, let's talk about your inevitable death."

She narrows her eyes, "Excuse me?"

"Of course, I would not go as far as kill you myself," Blaise says, slowly, as he pulls out his wand. "If all of my inheritances are handed to me as is my right, of course."

"How weak of you," She says in disgust.

Blaise gives him a sharp smile. "I am sure the French Prime Minister enjoyed your time warming his bed but tell me, when do I expect my new brother or sister? If you keep it, that is." She swallows heavily, "I'm sure the Prophet will be thrilled to hear all about it and the Witch Weekly as well. There is also the countless conquest that I have had the misfortune to listen to as the walls are thin and the satisfaction, as well, I imagine"

"There is the Slytherin I raised." She says, mockingly, "I have wondered where he has gone."

Blaise smirks, "He never left, Mother. I will not be bullied by you, any longer," He reaches into inside of his robes and throws a stack of parchment on the table, "Now, sign those for me. No need to read them."

She smiles at him, sardonically, "You didn't break up with him."

Blaise mimics her smile, "You would be an idiot if you think I would ever leave him." He tightens his grip on his wand, "No, I am ensuring that I will never make the same mistake twice." He taps his chin in thought as he says, "Now, about that gorgeous house we have near Cheshire."

* * *

"He left me," Draco sits on the ground, his wide eyes blank as he leans against Pansy. "They both...left me." He wraps his arms around himself as he whispers, "I'm lost, Pansy."

"No, sweetie, they are giving you a chance to get yourself together," Pansy softly, "They will be back in three months. Just three months. I'll be right here with you, each day. I'll sleep here if I have to."

"Three months. Ninety days. Two thousand, one hundred and ninety one hours," Draco mutters, "Too short, I can't. I can't fix me. Too broken. Not without Blaise. Not without Harry."

"Hey, hey, look at me," Pansy cups his face and says, gently, "You'll be alright."

"It's going to be hard, Pans," Draco whispers, "I already feels so empty, so lost."

"Nobody said it would be easy," Pansy replies.

"I can't do this."

"You can," Pansy says, firmly, "I will find you a healer tomorrow and I will stay with you through the day and we can go shopping and job hunting and you will be Draco Malfoy again." She nods as she brushes a stray strand of hair from his eyes, "My best friend. You'll get through this because you are a sarcastic, strong, gorgeous git that I love so much." She whispers, sniffling as she silently cried. "Three months will be plenty of time."

"I want to get better," Draco mumbles, his words barely comprehensible as he covers his face with his hands.

"Good," Pansy says, softly, "I'll be right next to you through it all. We're in this together."


	24. it'll never be the same as before

**24**

_It'll never be the same as before_

* * *

"Disgusting! Filthy!" Narcissa shouts as she throws Draco into the tub, the little five year old boy winces as his shoulder collides with the ceramic side of the tub as his mother fills it with water. Her nose scrunched in disgust as she takes a rag and begins to scrub him, "I told you Draco, never to play with those Mudbloods. Filthy! Filthy!"

"I'm lonely, Mummy," Draco whimpers as his mother pulls him forward roughly, dragging the rag over his skin until it turns red. "I don't have anyone to play with."

"Draco, listen to me, Mudbloods are filthy and beneath you. You will not disgrace the Malfoy name by playing with those flea bags," Narcissa hiss out as she throws the rag at his face, "Now, wash yourself, I must go now."

"Where are you going?" Draco whispers as he pulls the rag from his face to look at her with wide, fearful gray eyes.

"I have a party to attend to," Narcissa says, curtly, she looks at her hands in disgust as she wipes them with a towel. "Scrub until you no longer have any of those things germs."

"When will you be back?" Draco asks, as his skin reddens as he furiously scrubs, he'd hoped this time he wouldn't eat his dinner with the house elves. He hope his mother would come back by then. Maybe, if he cleans himself of the Mudblood's germs, maybe, she would want him.

"Soon," Narcissa snaps "Just scrub until I get back."

So, Draco does because he wants Mummy to be happy, he wants her to be proud of him and stay home so maybe if he cleans himself, she'll come back. If he's a good boy, then, she will want him. So, he scrubs and scrubs until his skin is raw, red and bleeding, he is shivering when a house elf finally pull him out six hours later and put him in pajamas.

His mother returns a month later.

"Draco? Draco?" Draco looks up at his Mind Healer with glazed eyes, he shakes his head to clear himself of the memory and focus on her. She was an average sized woman with kind, brown eyes and brown hair. She looked at him in concern as she called out his name, "Draco? Are you alright?"

"Sorry, did you say something?" He asks, leaning back in his chair. He takes in a deep, shaky breath trying to shake of the remnants of those memories he so desperately wished he could forget.

She smiles at him, kindly, "I asked how the nightmares are?"

"I have them occasionally, not all the time." Draco mutters, his chin resting on hand, trying to look nonchalant as his Healer gives him a pointed look.

"Are you writing them down like I suggested?"

"Yes." He replies, stiffly.

"Your compulsions?" She asks again.

"It's there, it's always there," He sighs, shaking his head, "Always counting…"

"It gets better."

"When?" He snaps at her, "I've been seeing you for a month! My anxiety has lessened but…"

"It's frustrating, yes," The woman says, softly, "But you must have patience, you can't be cured after only a month."

"Fine."

"But it seems you are adjusting well this past month," She offers, writing something on the thick, black notebook that Draco always eyes warily. It held all his dark secrets and he only wishes to burn it. "This break you said your boyfriends have established is working for you, it will help if you aren't distracted and more focused on your own recovery."

It was a weird way of describing his relationship, even after a month it had gotten no less hurtful to know he was abandoned, left to fend for himself. Deep down within him he knew it wasn't truly to but by thinking that it helped him hold on to his anger for a little while longer, to give him a reason to resent Blaise and Harry.

"I don't want to talk about them." Draco says, petulantly as he turns away from the woman, angrily. "Why do you always bring them up?"

"They are part of who you are and what you are trying to build," The Healer says, smoothly, her expression clear of judgment. "Its okay, Draco, to feel resentment, to feel fear."

His fingers twitch but he doesn't say a word, avoiding eye contact with the woman as he lose himself in his thoughts.

The Healer sighs, heavily, "It's okay to be afraid." He raises his eyes to the ceiling and starts to count the tiles there, "Don't resort to counting s a defense mechanism, don't hide from your fears. It will only worsen the condition."

Draco laughs hollowly, "And what exactly am I supposed to be afraid of?"

She doesn't reply, immediately, instead pulling out her wand and flicking it, the Pensive with the image of his mother - still transparent and mocking him - vanishes and he visibly relaxes.

"You're afraid you'll be left alone," She replies, simply. "That your boyfriends will leave you like your parents. It's okay to show fear, Draco."

Draco scoffs, angrily, before he stands and shakes his head, "This session is over."

"Running away again?" He stiffens at her words. Yes, he has left earlier than expected in all of his session this month but the twisting of his gut was just too much to bear in such a short amount of time. "I will see you on Thursday, then."

"Whatever." He grabs his coat, angrily, where it lies over the chair as his mind already forming the amount of hours until then, until three months, until he's _normal._

"Don't forget to occupy yourself." She calls out as the door slams, he barely hears her as she storms out of St Mungo's, Pansy hot on his heels as she always is. His mind feels like a jagged puzzle than can never be put back together or, maybe, it is Draco's heart that feels that way.

* * *

Draco's mind is a jumble of numbers, fears and obsessions. On most day, the chaos in his mind nearly brings him to his knees at the sheer overwhelming feeling of it but most days he had Blaise, Pansy and Harry to help him through it.

Not anymore.

Now, he must find a new outlet - a new distraction - for the chaos that is his mind. He has found a safe haven in playing the piano, it doesn't judge him or ridicule him - but always there and never runs, it's a comforting thought and he likes playing. He sits in the guest bedroom that holds the piano, Pansy sitting next to him on the piano bench. She smiles at him, encouragingly, and he takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes, letting his hand run over the keys and just_ letting go._

The sound of a piano being played, beautiful melodies of songs that Pansy has never heard before fills the silence and she watches intently like she always do as Draco get lost in his mind and in the instrument. The notes strung together seemingly at random, but going together perfectly.

She loves to see him like this, so relaxed and calm and normal - the Mind Healer has helped and she is proud to announce to anyone that listens that her best friend can walk with his head held high through the chaos of Diagon Alley without a panic attack.

She watches as Draco pours his thoughts and emotions into the music and it's so beautiful, she can only watch in amazement.

The tempo of Draco's music increases, capturing the attention of his little audience. She watches in slight alarm and awe as his fingers moves faster, banging out sharp chords and gliding over notes and pairing together notes that under normal circumstances would not sound good together but in this instance they made perfect sense.

Pansy held his breath and watched as sweat began to bead on Draco's forehead and his shoulders hunches as his hands moves faster, and with one final discordant bang of his fingers against the keys, he stops.

The room is silent for a moment and Draco's body trembles as he keeps his head down and tries to catch his breath.

He slowly relaxes as Pansy grabs a hold of his hand and he looks up at her to see tears in her eyes, he gives her a tiny smile and no words needs to be exchanged.

Everything is forgotten - the hurt, the anger, the longing; in that moment, it's just two best friends and a piano.

"You were always such a prodigy when it came to playing the piano." Draco freezes at the sharp, cold voice that filters in through the open door and Pansy jumps in surprise, both heads swinging to the entrance and Draco pales, for once, wishing that what he was seeing is a hallucination.

Draco can't move as the figure moves forwards and gives him a icy smile, "How is my little freak?"

His eyes are wide as he breathes out, "Mother."


	25. restore me, restore life

**25**

_restore me, restore life_

* * *

"Mother, what are you doing here?" Draco asks, tightly, slowly rising to his feet as he meets his mother's gaze full on. Narcissa Malfoy is a beautiful woman of average height, long, blond hair and piercing blue eyes. Her presence shouldn't have been intimidating but it brought a terror to Draco that seems to be buried in his very soul.

It has been years since he's seen his mother and he's never imagined that she would appear so suddenly and without warning at his home. After the war, Narcissa had all but vanished from the wizarding world, not even Lucius knew where she had ran off to. So, it was odd for Draco to see his mother after so many year of silence, she has long since made it clear that he was a failure in her eyes.

His mother had never shown any interest in his well-being, she was more concerned about how his mental instability would affect the Malfoy's reputation and took great measure to cover it all up.

It hurts more than it should when the times he needed her the most, his mother was never there.

"My little freak," She says in a mocking tone that makes his flinch. He hates the nickname; it made him feel ill and worthless. "I think a visit is long overdue, don't you think?"

His skin crawls at her drawling, cold voice, that feeling of slime slides over his skin and he wants to rush to the nearest sink and _scrub scrub scrub_ - clean all the imperfection that makes his mother hate him so much. He knows it his own fault, that if he was just more of the perfect son she wanted that she would care more, maybe, even love him. It isn't like he hasn't tried - oh, he has - it's the fact that he can never be as perfect as she wishes him to be.

He shivers as Pansy stands next to him, her presence reassuring and strong against his back and he swallows all the fear that wells up inside him, the want to run far away from his very own living nightmare. Because the thing he fears more than his father is his cold hearted mother.

"You never cared for me, Mother," Draco says, his voice trembles a bit as he looks up into the piercing blue eyes of Narcissa. "So, why else would you be here if only to use me in some way?"

She narrows her eyes, dangerously, "Don't take that tone with me, boy." She tilts her head to the side, her features sharp and beautiful. "I see you have warded your father from entering here. He has tried to contact you numerous times."

"...really?" He breathes out in surprise because he wasn't aware of that little detail - it is why Pansy has slept here with him the last month - and then, it finally dawns on him. "Oh."

Blaise.

Blaise must have put up extra wards before he left, and he's sure Harry is monitoring his Floo network and the thought that the two would still be looking after him, even after they left – like guardian angels - makes the sting of their departure lessen a bit and fills him with a warmth that curls his toes.

"Your father request that you come home, immediately." She says, briskly, and in a final tone that leaves no room for arguments. A few years ago it would have caused him to obey without hesitation but things have changed since then, he has changed. "You are needed."

"He doesn't have to listen to you," Pansy speaks after a moment coming forward to stand in front of him. "Draco, you don't have to leave with her."

"Pansy...no..." he pleads, weakly, a soft whisper that is barely there.

"Ms Parkinson," Narcissa whispers in a sickly sweet voice that causes a shudder to run through him. "I suggest you don't get in my way. My little freak will be leaving with me -"

"Stop calling him that," Pansy snaps and Draco's eyes widens in horror when Narcissa's gaze darkens into something hateful and monstrous as she looks at Pansy who holds her ground as she spits out, "His name is _Draco_ and if you weren't so caught up in your own delusional world, maybe, you could be the mother he needs, right now."

"How dare you!" Narcissa trembles with the weight of her anger, her lips curls into an ugly sneer. "You, foolish girl, know nothing so you will silence yourself. Now, move aside."

"No," Pansy says, sticking her chin up in the air as a stubborn gesture, "I refuse to allow my best friend to be treated this way...like a meaningless thing when he is so much more than that. I rather die than allow you to take him away," she shakes her head as she accuses, softly, "You haven't once called him by his name nor have you treated him like he is normal. He may have some issues but he is still Draco."

"Draco, come." Narcissa says, fury is written all across her face as she stretches out a manicured hand for him to take. He stares at it with an unreadable expression, he knows nothing good would come to following his mother – nothing ever does but the thought of going against his mother is just as frightening.

Pansy gives him an encouraging look and he takes in a deep breath.

"No..." Draco whispers, shaking his head. The word is so simple and archaic but he feels as if he's been freed from oppression. He stares at his mother straight in the eyes and says, "No."

Narcissa narrows her eyes, "Excuse me?"

"No, Mother, I will not go with you," Draco says, firmly, he straightens his back and glares at her. He doesn't know where this burst of courage has come from but he supposes that if Pansy can defend him so readily than he can do it, as well. "You have belittled, degraded, insulted, neglected, hated and bullied me my whole entire life." His voice is a soft whisper as he takes measure steps towards his Mother who is looking at him in a mixture of fear, shock and rage.

"If I were you," Narcissa whispers in a slow and measured tone, "I would think long and hard about your next choice of words, little freak."

"Don't worry, I've had enough time to think about this," Draco says, "I am sick of the way you treat me and I won't stand for it." He takes in a deep breath, "You need to get the hell out of my house. I am not the same panicky, fearful boy you can hurt anymore, Mother. I will and have become stronger and I will never let you hurt me again. I am tired of trying to appease you."

"Boy..."

"Shut up," Draco says, sharply, "Just leave."

"Your father will not be happy." She says through gritted teeth.

"I don't give a flying fuck," Draco snarls, angrily, he ignores the way his skin crawls as his mother glares at him, disapprovingly. He ignores it, no longer caring for his mother approval or affection. He is tired of her trying to control him, trying to make him into something he never was, "He can go to hell, too. So, please, just go."

"This isn't over." Narcissa snarls before she apparate with a sharp pop.

Draco sags down to the ground, staring at his hands that shake violently in fear and terror. He knows it isn't over, it is far from over but for now, he has, at least, won one battle.

There is an odd feeling in his gut, it clenches his whole stomach but it isn't uncomfortable. And for the first time, his mind is blank and not filled with numbers, obsessions or compulsions. He feels lightweight as if he is floating, he barely register Pansy as she stoops next to him, a concerned look on her face.

He feels free.

He feels like Draco Malfoy for the first time in a long time.


End file.
